When I walk with Annie down Cedar Street, the road that runs behind my house, I look to see what's happening at Bob and Shirley's place. My elderly neighbors have had a hard time lately. About a year and a half ago, Bob had heart surgery. Something went wrong and his brain was damaged. My father, who had similar surgery about the same time, recovered quickly, but Bob just kept going downhill, deep into dementia. Before Christmas, Shirley stopped in her car to tell me she was putting him in a nursing home. I cried the rest of our walk, remembering all too well how it was with my husband, who had Alzheimer's and died in 2011.
I was surprised yesterday to see Bob standing in the driveway. Annie, ever happy to visit people, needed no encouragement to go see him. But Bob, once a brilliant scientist, could no longer speak well or respond to anything I said. His words were all jumbled up and didn't make much sense. He kept saying something about a "ride." He wanted me to "ask Shirley." He kept insisting, so I went to the door to talk to Shirley.
Shirley was near tears. The cost of residential care plus the pain of being separated had led her to bring him home a few days ago, but he was getting worse every day. He had been out in the driveway for hours and refused to come in. He kept staring at the next door neighbor's house, waiting for something, it was hard to tell what. You could tell she was exhausted and ready to fall apart.
But she had help. Their two grown daughters visited often, offering practical and emotional assistance. How I wished I'd had that when Fred was sick. His children mostly stayed away. People keep telling me you can't count on your children to be there when you need help. It's true, but oh when they are, what a blessing. I'm grateful that Shirley has that.
But her kids aren't all she has. As we talked on her doorstep, she was expecting her church pastor any minute. The neighbor across the street was coming over soon. And she had hired the same home care agency I used with Fred to give her a few hours off three days a week. It does take a village, not only to raise a child but to care for people who are desperately ill.
The thing is, that village will not be there unless you make the connections. I admit I'm not good at this. When I sprained my ankle in December, I struggled to take care of myself, hopping around on crutches, sometimes crawling, occasionally falling. True I lack husband or children, but I have friends. I'm just not good at asking for help. I need to work on that skill. As do you. Bob and Shirley, married 60 years, have wonderful children and grandchildren, but they also bought long-term care insurance, made connections with friends and neighbors, and hired a home-care agency. The kids were just one part of the equation.
We all wonder what will happen when we get old. What are you thoughts on not having grown children to help you in old age?
Please, if you're into praying, include Bob and Shirley and all the other couples struggling with dementia.
In a society where parenting is expected, some of us do not have children because our partners are unable or unwilling to make babies. That's what this blog and my book, Childless by Marriage, are about. The book is available now in paperback and as a Kindle e-book. Here on this blog, let's talk about what it's really like.
Showing posts with label alone in old age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alone in old age. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
Thursday, June 5, 2014
We childless do not have to end up alone
We’re taking photos this week for our church directory. I
volunteered yesterday afternoon to check people in. That gave me a front row
seat to watch people getting their pictures taken.
In past directories, I have
always been painfully aware of my lone face sticking out among the family
pictures. Some were just couples, but others had so many kids crammed into the
shot that they barely fit in the little square.
This year’s directory will be no different, except for one
thing. I am much more aware of the individuals who get photographed alone. Men
and women. Widowed, divorced, never married. Some have grown children and
grandchildren, but they don’t live here. The men were pretty matter of fact
about flying solo, but the women would say, “Just me” and sigh. Busy filling
out forms, I would nod and say, “Me too.”
Ending up alone is not unusual, whether you have 10 children
or none. But the beautiful thing was the way friends connected while they
waited for their turns in front of the camera. Some people have been going to this
church for 50 years. Our parish is like a big family. Once you enter, you don’t
have to be alone.
I know everyone is not religious, and I’m not here to
convert anybody. But people can create family relationships in all kinds of
groups. For many, their co-workers become a family. But you can also get
involved in whatever interests you. Here on the Oregon Coast, people volunteer
at the aquarium. They join the therapy dog group. They sing with Sweet Adelines
or volunteer at the homeless shelter. They help with programs for kids at
schools, churches, and sports organizations. I’ll bet there are plenty of
opportunities wherever you live.
I know one of our biggest fears is ending up alone if we don’t
have children. And we might. It’s just me and the dog at my house, and
sometimes I hate it. But we don’t have to be alone. When somebody needs
help, be the one who says, “I’ll do it.”
What do you think about this? I welcome your comments.
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