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Retiring in Wallingford: Surviving and Thriving in Seattle

When I look back on my last three and a half years in Seattle, I see more than a move—I see a journey of learning how to survive, stretch, adapt, and ultimately how to thrive. Retirement is supposed to be a time of rest, but living on a fixed income in a city as expensive as ours means every day teaches me something new about strength, creativity, and gratitude. I knew I needed a change in my life, and my life has indeed changed.

Food was the first shock. Whether cooking at home or grabbing a bite out, the prices here made my heart skip a beat. I remember standing in the aisles of the Wallingford QFC during my early weeks here, feeling overwhelmed and wondering how I would make this new life work. But slowly, I learned. I found my rhythm. And somewhere along the way, that store became not just a place to shop, but a place where I felt supported. I am glad I came with my skills ready to be sharpened. The most important thing was that I already knew how to cook and I also enjoyed it.

The Emotional Wins Hidden in the Aisles of QFC

Signing up for my QFC card felt like a small victory, a step toward taking control. The weekly digital deals and BOGO specials helped, but the real magic came from the reduced sticker items. I had an eagle eye for them as I perused the aisles. The manager’s specials on meat—those 99-cents-a-pound stickers—felt like small miracles. I could get boneless chicken tenders, regularly $7.99 a pound, for 99¢. But I was not greedy: I would take a few and leave some for another super shopper.

And then I discovered the red bags. For $1.75, I could walk out with a bag of produce or fruit, sometimes bruised, sometimes perfectly fine, always a surprise. There’s something emotional about those bags: they remind me that good things don’t have to be perfect to be valuable. Some days the bin is empty, and I feel a little disappointed. Other days it’s overflowing, and I feel like the universe left me a gift. I’ve found treasures there that made me smile all the way to the checkout.

And the staff? Edna at the register and the gals who pack my bags just right because they know I’m walking—they make me feel special. Edna always checks my receipt and tells me I am the best shopper ever! She knows prices are high and is just amazed how I do it. I joked that I could teach others. As a walker, I often have to stop myself from buying too much. I’ve trudged home with a backpack so heavy I could feel every step. But even that weight felt like accomplishment, like I’m carrying home the proof that I’m making this life work.

FamilyWorks: A Place That Feels Like Community

My journey took another turn when I rediscovered FamilyWorks, the food bank where I once volunteered. Walking back into their newly renovated space recently, I felt something warm: a sense of belonging, of being part of something bigger than myself.
Their programs are designed with dignity in mind. Three days a week (Tuesday 12–2 pm, Thursday 3–6 pm, and Friday 11 am–1 pm), people can shop in person, either by reserving a time online or just by walking in. The application for a card is simple: they ask only for basic information, not proof of income. It’s simple, respectful, and human.

But the program that changed everything for me is the Groceries to Go program. It’s another easy way to shop: just go online, fill out a simple application (again, no income verification), and order your items for pickup. Using this service each week has given me control, choice, and relief. The food is wholesome: dairy, bread, meat, produce, peanut butter, grains. Real food. Good food. Because of FamilyWorks, I can save money at QFC and still eat well. That combination has become my lifeline.

FamilyWorks also provides a Mobile Food Pantry to families and seniors, and their Home Delivery Program brings groceries to people who can’t get out. They don’t just hand out food, they hand out hope.

When I sat down with Ron Ketehut, along with Anisa Nun and Subigya Pandey, I felt their compassion immediately. They are the Community Resource Navigation team at FamilyWorks. They don’t just talk about programs, they talk about people, helping to connect folks to utility assistance, ORCA Lift, rental help, SNAP, WIC, and more. They meet people where they are, without judgment, and help find a way forward. For seniors like me, especially those who may never have visited a food bank except as a volunteer, their support is a gift.

Finding Pride in the Journey

Living on a fixed income in Seattle isn’t easy. But it has taught me to be resourceful, brave, and open to help. It has taught me that community is not just a word—it’s the people who pack your bags carefully, the volunteers who greet you with kindness, and the staff who help you find programs you didn’t know existed. I’ve learned that thriving isn’t about having everything. It’s about finding joy in small victories, discovering hidden treasures, and knowing that you’re not alone.

This journey has shaped me, and I’m proud of the life I’ve built here—one bargain, one red bag, one act of kindness at a time.

Editor’s note: See past articles in Patti’s series “Retiring in Wallingford”:

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Patti Gray Whann

Retired from wearing many hats in my life. Moved to Wallingford in 2023 with my two kitties to live near my daughter, who has made this her home since 2001. I had visited many times and love the area as well. My last job was owning my own small boutique real estate office specializing in new construction, aging in place, and first-time homeowners. Previously spent 17 years working as an advocate in the fields of domestic violence, child abuse, and sexual assault. I loved being part of my community, being on numerous boards, and volunteering to bring back our community, which was pretty destitute, into a thriving main street with many small businesses, the arts, and theatre as the engine of growth. I have been a constant volunteer since I was 14 and continue that here, in my new home in Wallingford.