Before the recent restrictions on socializing, every night after dinner in my community’s main building, an older gentleman sat in a wing chair opposite the central elevator, holding a bag of dog treats…

One reason I’d wanted to move into my continuing care retirement community was to stop cooking dinner. I’d grown tired of planning meals, dashing to the supermarket for missing ingredients…

One evening after we’d been living at The Terraces for a few weeks, my husband looked around the dining room and said, “These people are all old. How do you feel about it?”

We entered the lobby – armchairs upholstered in mid-century colors; a painting of a rearing white horse; a row of walkers parked along a wall; a foursome of bent…