The Evening of Life

For those of you who do not know, which means practically everybody, Herr Professor Doktor Joachim (“Jochem”) Rook has been our landlord over a period of twenty years. Year in/year out my wife and I used to stay with him in the second floor of his house in Potsdam, Germany. Potsdam, also for those who do not know, is the seat of the Militaergeschichtliche Forschugnsamt, the military history branch of the German Bundeswehr. That Branch, again, has Europe’s largest collection of military history works. For those who, like me, need an even broader basis to do research, there is always the railway that will take you to Berlin in about thirty minutes.

At first we thought that three weeks would be enough both for work and for having a little fun. Gradually, though, the period we spent in Potsdam became longer and longer until, over the last few years, the three weeks turned into two months. Always in the same place, and never with the smallest difference arising between us, our wonderful landlord, and his equally wonderful wife Ursula (“Uschi”), a former announcer on East German TV and, in her prime, a very good looking woman indeed.

Being retired, and no longer feeling like writing—he is the author and co-author of quite some books, both academic and popular, on economics and on shipping—Herr Rook spent much of his time doing light housework. As by putting things in order, cleaning, laundering, cultivating the garden, erecting a new shed for his tools, etc. It keeps people young, or so they say.

I too am retired. And with every passing day I feel the growing attraction of living as he, now in his mid-eighties, has done for so long. Getting up at whatever hour suits, generally about 0800. Enjoying a nice siesta. Working a few hours a day to keep the house clean and in good repair and the garden, trim. Time to mow the (rather small) lawn. Time to trim the lemon tree (each spring) which, after years and years in which it bore hardly any fruit, has suddenly started doing so abundantly. Time to clean the balcony so we can have a meal or a cup of tea on it when the weather allows.
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With every passing day, one or more small tasks are discharged. With every passing day, new ideas for “improvements” crop up on their own, so to speak. What if we moved some of the potted plants from the front of the house to the rear, or the other way around? What if we finally changed the curtain in the guest room, the one that Dvora herself made thirty years ago? And what if?

From time to time, a meeting with our children and grandchildren. A lively lot, especially the little ones; each of them can easily keep two adults busy. Or else with friends. Or else going to the pool for exercise class (Dvora). Or taking a walk (me, sometimes with Dvora coming along, in the Judean hills). Or making a mosaic (again, me; presumably I’ll go on making them as long as there is a demand for them on the part of family members and friends). From time to time, a museum, a show or a movie, or else an excursion to some archaeological site (of which Israel has plenty). Everything at a slow, leisurely pace. And everything, “chores” specifically included, done with lots of love and respect.

Thank you, Jochem and Uschi, for showing us how to do it.