Shaken, Not Broken

I hate when my family comes to visit because they always bring the worst gifts. It is usually a new coffee mug, dish towel, cheap flowers and the worst snacks. Though I do like to hold on to any gifts and re gift them for birthdays around here. My children tried to convince me that they knew me moving in to an old folks home would be good for me, but joke is on them because they are paying for it. Also, why do they all like to come at once and bring all of the grandchildren. It makes me feel like I am living in a circus and I am the entertainment. I should seriously create a sign up sheet that clearly list the allowed dates, times and maximum number of guest allowed for my peace of mind.

My husband and I raised our four kids and sent them off to the best colleges. All married and ten grand children later. I stopped pretending to care after the fourth though. I did my job as a mother and a wife. Now I would just like to live the rest of my life in peace. Especially after my husband decided to leave me years ago. As much as it was of an easy decision for him to leave me, it was just as easy for me to not have to take care of anyone else. Joke is on him though because I got half everything, the house, my independence and alimony. Unfortunately, even my children took my side. I now have enough money to buy a new house, take many, many luxurious trips with Gladys and still afford another wedding, but I am never getting married again. Marriage is for pretenders in their twenties.

I am at a point in my life where I would just like to hang out with my boyfriend, George, and best friend, Gladys. Both of whom I met here. Gladys is my best friend and my hero. She asked her children to stop visiting her a couple of years ago though they don’t always obey her wishes. The staff does not let us visit each others rooms after 7 PM because it is a liability, but I usually sneak into George’s room on Tuesdays, and Gladys’s every other day for our nightly glass of smuggled wine and to catch up on that weeks episode of Unsolved Mysteries.

I moved in to Sunshine retirement home for 60+ senior citizens 5 years ago and and met Gladys when she was giving Jenny the red head a hard time about how Jenny needed to dye her as soon as possible because she gives Gladys the creeps. Gladys says she looks like the Wendy’s girl. I don’t think Gladys means it, she is just trying to give the staff a hard time. Either way, you can always count on Gladys to make you laugh.

Jenny is the event coordinator for Sunshine Retirement home. Helpful, but she is way too high strung. I usually have to calm her down and talk her off the ledge when Gladys takes it too far. Truth is she is great for this place, but she takes her job and life too seriously. Jenny is a beautiful girl, but if she gives too much of herself to life and things she does not enjoy, she will go crazy.

One night nearing the end of our bottle of wine, I say to Gladys “What I would do for one dirty martini and a cheese burger.” Gladys responds with a laugh and says “Just two?” “Maybe three.” I admit. “Yeah and who is going to take you? Jenny? Your kids?” “I am sure one of our grand children can smuggle us out” I giggle. “Let’s do it.” Gladys says with a straight face.

While Sunshine retirement home is a nice living facility, sometimes it can feel like you are living in a prison. Prison might even have more freedom than we do. Cigarettes are not allowed, dry living, and everything you eat is monitored. At least you can smoke cigarettes in prison and I am sure the guards do not speak to you like children in every conversation. In prison, everyone knows why they are there. In a nursing home, retirement home, and assisted living everyone just assumes you’re near death, incompetent or they have come to a mutual agreement that everyone needs to feel sorry for you. Bottom line is we may have health issues and may be limited since we are older, but we are not dead.

The next morning I wait for Gladys and George at our usual table for breakfast but neither of them show up. That is not like either of them. As I finish my breakfast, I head to Gladys’s room first. I start to feel a sense of anxiety the closer I get… “Psst.” I feel a tug on the back of my shirt and turn around to find George. “Oh, thank God!” I say in relief and give him a kiss. “Where have you been, George?” I demand an answer. “Gladys and I woke up early to plan.” Another sense of relief pours over me. “Plan what exactly?” “The escape.” He says with a grin. George drags me the rest of the way to Gladys’s room.

“So here is the plan.” As Gladys maps out the plan and shows George and myself her cheat sheet she apparently created during yesterdays afternoon art class. I strangely feel an insane amount of courage to go through with this. I am 71, not dead and yet I am restricted on what I can eat, drink, and do. “What if they catch us?” I complain to Gladys. “They won’t, and if they do, we will fake Alzheimer’s.” “The both of us?” “Yes!” Gladys clearly says not really paying attention to my concern. I roll my eyes and ask George if he is joining us. “Not this time ladies, this is a girls night over.” “My man!” Gladys gives George a high five. “My job is to distract the guards at the front!” George continues.

I am not really sure if George is my boyfriend but sometimes we kiss, hold hands and hangout just the two of us. I call him my boyfriend, but we have never labeled this. Not that either of us cares, all we know is that we align on almost everything. Life, marriage, politics, and we enjoy each others company. That is enough for the both of us. George is perfect in every way and I am glad to always have his support.

The night of our breakout comes. I wear black pants and a t-shirt and Gladys wears a bright pink dress. “We definitely should have coordinated.” I say. The plan is for George and myself to go for a nightly walk in the garden after dinner. Gladys will cause some ruckus in the kitchen, so that she can get the attention of all the staff. When they kindly ask her to leave to her room, she will meet me near the front. As George is talking to the front guard, Gladys and I sneak out the left entrance. We see Gladys’s grandson waiting for us in his green convertible.

Tim is Gladys’s favorite grandchild because she walked in on her son and daughter-in-law scolding Tim after catching him with a joint a few years ago. Tim acted like a deer in headlights. Gladys told her son that was her joint and that Tim was just holding it for her while she went to the bathroom, but that Tim assured her smoking anything was bad so she was planning on quitting. Gladys told Tim that night that he is at her mercy until she dies, but truth is they have a great relationship and Tim was thrilled to help us escape. Tim is allowed to visit Gladys once a month.

Our plan absolutely falls to shit when we see Jenny the red head just outside in the driveway. She knows exactly what this is, but there is no time to explain, just enough time to ask Jenny for permission without ratting us out. We make our way to the car.

“Jenny if you let us go, I promise to get the whole crew to go to yard time.” Gladys pleads.

“It’s called gardening, Gladys” Jenny says in frustration.

“Tomato, potato” Gladys responds.

“Get in Jenny, I’ll buy you a drink.” I say. Jenny starts walking towards the car.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Jenny.” I say.

“I better have EVERY. SLOT. FULL.” Jenny the the red head responds.

“Sally will make sure that happens” Gladys says as she turns the music louder.