Some kind of purgatory

THE HAGUE, the Netherlands – Somehow words take a very different meaning when expressed by people whose lives are “living examples” of those words.

How often have we said the words “I’m lonely” or “It’s painful” or “I’m bored” in such a casual manner or perhaps even in all seriousness? Today I was once again reminded that such casual expressions could be someone else’s prison or purgatory.

After many years of visiting my Dutch father-in-law in his own house, we have just now visited him in what we technically refer to as an “Old peoples’ home”. Unlike the hospital-like facilities we all see on TV, this one actually looks more like an integrated complex of townhouses where you keep a semblance of your own home environment with the added value of a nursing facility.

However good the facilities are, in the end, it is a very different world altogether.

At 86, my father-in-law is relatively healthy. He gets around unassisted and can still manage short strolls in the neighborhood. He often tells me, I’m quite healthy, the only thing wrong with me is old age!

After a few visits he has managed to draw the picture of what “ old age” is all about.

He can no longer drive, he can’t go for long walks, he no longer has the social circle he knew, and there are no more pool games such as eight ball. His independence is now just a shattered thing of the past as he relies more and more on other peoples’ initiative.

 The days of the week no longer matters, as they don’t really stand for anything in terms of appointments, events or work schedules. There are no more deadlines except the final and the unknown day we die.

For those who love him and have been part of his life, the most disturbing and upsetting reality is that on a good day he can remember details of his childhood. On a bad day, his short-term memory is so bad that he does not even recall that we visited him just last week.

It’s times like this when being wheel chair bound or being physically immobilized may seem a blessing compared to losing your memory or mental faculties.

I just now realize a similar behavior between the elderly and people in prison; all of them yearn so much for visitors from the outside world, from family and most especially from their children. Somehow it’s a role reversal. As young children want parents to be within reach for security, elders need the reassurance of love, that somehow they still matter and that they have not been forgotten.

I expected that it would be a lonely life for him, but when he himself stated the obvious, the reality of an old persons’ loneliness really hit hard. Somehow his purgatory became just a little more real.

We all want a long life, not just for ourselves but also for those we love such as our parents and even grandparents. Unfortunately we think and pray mostly in terms of longevity or number of years. We assume that quality of life comes with length of life, but it does not.

Seeing what I have seen in the lives of our elderly as well as those in the Netherlands, I can’t help but raise the question: Do our elders have real quality of life or have we made them into 60 – 70 – or 80-year old infants cared for by a “yaya”, a nurse, a houseboy” or even by us?

Do they still have a life, outside of food, sleep, toilet and TV? As they live the years of a diminished lifestyle do we help them maintain some form of activity beyond the walls of their confinement? Or have we confined them to their “processing center” until their day of departure?

Most people love their elders, just as many people also have issues or difficulties; on the surface our biggest problem is time. We have become parents, working professionals, people with responsibilities. But as Filipinos put it: “Kung gusto, may paraan. Kung ayaw, maraming dahilan” (Those who want, have ways. Those who don’t have ways out).

But deeper than this, connecting with our elders can be like grabbing the blade of a double-edged sword.

On one hand we find ourselves in the awkward position of being with someone we love so much, have nothing in common with and can only keep a ten-minute conversation without eventually turning to politics or the weather. Deeper than this, the curse of age and the fear of losing an elderly loved one becomes even more apparent in-person.

The other side of the blade is one that often cuts deeper. For many people, a visit or spending time with an elder parent is like diving into a pond full of memories both good and bad. The longer you swim in it the more you stir things up and the more these things rise to the surface.

Yes it’s scary, yes it’s awkward, and yes you have things to do and places to be. But have you considered that, “that” older person was someone who made you the center of his or her universe. They did not think of the cost, the time, or the awkward situations. They loved you, brought you places you wanted to be. Bought you things you wanted.

Unlike children who are selfish, elderly people don’t want to be in the way or be a burden. But ask yourself; would you really be happy living the way your elders are living out their lives? Your answer determines your next move.

By the way, the example you set may ultimately be the life you live. –Cito Beltran, Philippine Star