One of the saddest things we witness in our third age is disappearance of familiar faces of friends, neighbors, acquaintences. Some die, some go for an assisted living facility, some move closer to their children.
There's a certain bench which whenever I happen to pass near it, I feel a twinge. It reminds me of two women, neigbours and friends, that regularly used to sit on it talking, gossiping, laughing. Sometimes, I would join them as they were a good source of the latest news in the area.
One of them died a few years ago; after that, the other one was not seen again sitting on that bench . She recently moved to an assisted living facility. She didn't want to. At her age (80) she was still in good condition and quite independent.
However, a divorced brother of hers who had to leave his apartment to wife and kids, came to live at her big house. She was not happy about that. After three years of having him around, she decided to sell the house. She gave him some money to find himself a place, and joined an assisted living facility.
She couldn't believe it. Leaving her house, turned out to be one of her most happy days.