There are two yoga books on my shelf, both with the number 50 in the title. One was a 50th birthday present from my sister, and the other was co-written by one of my favorite yoga teachers, Desiree Rumbaugh. Glancing at my bookshelf…

We were hiking up a hill in my neighborhood after dinner. Night had fallen, but porchlights on nearby houses and a lone streetlamp lit the way. Michael, my son, said, “You know, Mom, you shouldn’t be doing this…

My friend, Marcia, is a vigorous woman in her early 80s. Thirty years ago, she moved into an apartment on Manhattan’s upper East side. Last year, I visited her place for the first time. There were bars outside her ground floor windows…

My husband passed away this June after a long struggle with Parkinson’s disease. Years ago, I had joined a group of Parkinson’s spouses who met monthly to support each other. We were all around the same age, going through the same quandaries…

Up until age 75, I felt 18 years old at the core. The girl I used to be still lived inside me and dictated my approach to life. That girl had always hungered to learn new things. She enjoyed traveling independently, taking a chance on whatever food and lodging…

Tom and I had a one o’clock reservation for a traditional Thanksgiving meal in the dining room. We were seated at one end of a rectangular table, with another couple we knew slightly at the other end. Although socially distanced…

There are seven residential buildings on our 22-acre campus, two of which house people in need of advanced levels of care. Last March, management here applied the State’s Covid-19 directives for nursing homes across…

There’s a small auditorium – complete with 164 upholstered seats, stage and proscenium, baby grand piano, and green room – at my CCRC. It doubles as a gathering place on weekdays and a chapel on Sundays…

My husband and I moved into The Terraces last July, joining about 300 other residents living in independent apartments. Since then, three people we came to know and like have passed away. All three were around 90 years old…

A year before my husband and I committed to living in a CCRC, we had dinner with friends who had already done so. The four of us sat around a table in the restaurant in their community, and the couple talked at length…