What Goes On In Retirement Homes, Anyway?

In recent years I have become a bad sleeper. From being a faithful 8-hours a nighter I have graduated to fits and bursts of sleep between midnight and 8am. I’m sure that given the opportunity I could knock out 8 hours on the couch if the television set was on and blaring in my ear, but things are different in the quiet of the night. So I wander around, read, grab a snack and the dark hours pass. I sometimes look out of the windows at the moonlit scenery and at the glass-fronted corridors where the only movement is an occasional caregiver changing shifts. 

Except for three nights ago. I was standing at the window at about 3am mulling the thought of a sleeping pill when I saw the door of an apartment across the courtyard open and a figure slip out very quickly. As the person turned I saw it was a man. The door closed behind him and he took off down the corridor towards the elevators. So the night after, I staked the place out, I prepared a cheese sandwich for myself and a flask of hot milk. It was a long wait but it paid off. A few minutes after 3 the door opened, the guy emerged and someone inside closed the door behind him. In the morning I wandered along that corridor and read the name of the resident on the nameplate.

A bit of detective work at the front desk told me that the lady is a new arrival here. I found her in the coffee shop and checked her out. I sat down next to her and started up a mild conversation, but nothing developed and I left. She is nothing special to look at either, I thought. And extra heavy to boot. Last night I switched from a cheese sandwich to peanut butter and jelly after the indigestion of the previous night. At 3 the nocturnal visitor emerged and walked jauntily towards the elevator.

Yeah, beats me too…


About the Author
Leon Moss grew up in South Africa and has lived in Israel for 35 years; He is a construction estimator by profession, and has been a freelance writer for the past 10 years, writing odd stories, articles and web content. Leon paints and works hard at being retired. He and his wife live in a retirement home in central Israel.