Roland Francis: The Loneliness of Aging: Stray Thoughts of a Toronto Goan
In times past, it was easy being old. In fact ‘old’ in those days meant anyone merely above 50. So a man retired at 55 lived for a year or two and then died while still in his own home. There was no problem for his family or even his wife who usually lived much longer. But now, with advances in medicine, thanks to technology causing nature to be held at bay, being old usually refers to the mid 70’s and beyond. In some cases with many in relatively good health the bar is stretched further. That presents a few problems.
To those who have immigrated temporarily as in the Arabian Gulf or for jobs in Hong Kong and Singapore, there is the constant worry of the old man back home. Distance has been made irrelevant by cheap air travel, but it is not always possible to drop everything even for a short while and fly back to help out during a parental sickness. So you make a few calls and try to get to the heart of the matter. Is it serious? Is the cancer slow spreading rather than aggressively metastasizing? Will the Parkinson’s or Alzheimer’s give time and what can I do from here? Do I need to be there if for nothing else than to make him more comfortable than what the folks around him think is sufficient? With sons and daughters in the western hemisphere, those problems are compounded further. There is too much efficiency and too little heart in this part of the world with one’s employment. So you pretend that the problem is not so critical and you delay it until bad luck strikes with a vengeance and senility, non-recognition and even taking of the final breath occurs. And therein lies the Diaspora tragedy of the closest form of human relationships – the Family.
There is an even worse situation that prevails. Mum or Dad have been persuaded that they are better off in England, Canada or Australia in climes different from what they knew, snatched from familiar surroundings, with people who grew to be their friends over a lifetime. They come because the children are all here and they are persuaded that health care is light years ahead of what they would get back there. Then they wilt. They have to be beholden to whomever they live with, meekly saying yes to the son and terrified of the daughter-in-law who didn’t much like them in the first place doing silent battle with the husband about why her parents have not been similarly treated. So this once fiercely independent father and mother who rocked their infants in the soft arms of love and affection, giving them all their time and money which they didn’t always have, through demanding childhood, problem teen times and even the rough paths of young adulthood, find themselves like vulnerable and wounded birds waiting for that predator death to snatch them from misery.
Of course not all experiences are like this. Many children take joy in their parents, treating them like they ought to and not like an inconvenience. Many parents are happy, taking part fully in the lives of the children they live with, learning that their own wise and selfless counsel must be kept to themselves and given only when asked, even if that is rarely. I have seen loving children find scarce money to place their parents in care facilities where comfort and even luxury is compensation for the necessary parting from the family home, finding time almost every day after work to visit, sit and engage in conversation not in condescending manner but with the full dynamism of grateful children.
It is the nature of the Diaspora beast. Children cannot be blamed for not doing enough, only praised when they do. Forget the children, when you have the occasion to meet an older person, drive him or her to a coffee or better still for a nice restaurant meal. Chat. There is always much in life to be proud of that each one brings to old age which could be teased to the fore with little prodding. Watch that sparkle and catch that gleam. Whether doing this or visiting someone known who is in an old age home, you are merely paying it forward. If you reach old age whether you want to or not and you are lucky, someone will gently revive old and pleasant memories for you too.
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