Old and Alone

Last week I read a news story that filled me with great sadness: the police in Rotterdam found the body of a woman who had been dead in her home for ten years without anyone noticing. The press report said the body was discovered by the city police after several construction workers tried unsuccessfully to contact the woman. The most extraordinary thing is that the neighbors said they hadn’t noticed anything, and thought the woman had gone to live with her daughter. And I ask: how had the daughter not realized that something had happened to her mother?

The story also said that the Netherlands’ national fund for the elderly warned that cases like this will become more and more frequent, because the trend is for older people to want to live in their own homes for longer and longer, and only those who are very ill tend to move into nursing homes.

I think there is nothing sadder than a nursing home, even one run by very capable and wonderful people. I know and understand that every case is different, and that sometimes children decide to place their parents in a home because they cannot care for them, but I believe it hastens their death, because loneliness hits very hard at that age.

The sad thing is that the story cited a study by the Amsterdam health organization GGD, according to which, every day in that city, the body of someone who has been dead for more than twenty-four hours is found, and five times a year someone is discovered more than two months after their death.

But the most serious thing is that this does not happen only in that part of the world. A friend of mine who had to move to the United States told me that life for old people there is very lonely, that children leave home very young, rarely visit their parents, and when the parents die, days or sometimes weeks can go by before anyone notices.

The lack of humanity in the world has reached astonishing levels. Several months ago I also read a story I will never forget: a seventyyear-old Albanian man placed a death notice in a newspaper announcing his own death, to see whether that way he would get to see his family. In an interview with a local newspaper in his city, the man said: “Four and a half years ago I came back from Canada, and neither my children, nor my brothers and sisters, nor my cousins have come to my house for a cup of coffee. While I was in Canada, I helped them all with money as much as I could. I very much wanted to come back to my homeland and live with my loved ones. But now that I’m here, and I have no money left, nobody pays any attention to me.” Not even that last effort to bring his family together was very successful, because only his eldest daughter came to his house. After that experience, the man said that on the day of his real death he would not allow anyone at the cemetery except the gravedigger.

Truly, how sad it is to see the elderly and the sick alone. We are seeing it here too, especially now that so many children have unfortunately had to emigrate. But I know that the children who leave keep a close eye on their parents, and sometimes hire people to help them.

And thank God we Venezuelans are a little different in this, and almost always someone who is alone or sick here in Venezuela finds someone to lend them a hand and keep them company. I know several cases, for example that of a friend whose neighbor is a lady of about seventy, who has a daughter of about forty with Down syndrome. Months ago that lady was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, and her other son (who lives abroad) calls her and scolds her because she forgets things. My friend has taken charge of that lady and her daughter, because the son cannot even send her money. It is a sad case, but at the same time an exemplary one, because my friend has become a devoted daughter to that lady.

Not long ago I was also told about some young people who live in a student residence here in Caracas, several of whom have “adopted” a lonely old man who lives in their neighborhood. They help him with his medical appointments, his grocery shopping and so on. Tell me that isn’t beautiful!

Last week Pope Francis spoke again about the elderly and pointed out that the only commandment that comes with a promise is the Fourth Commandment: “Honor your father and your mother, that it may go well with you and that you may live long on the earth” (Ephesians 6:2–3).

“Today more than ever,” the Pope says, “the Church (and the Church is all of us who are baptized!) must set an example for the whole of society that the elderly, despite their inevitable ‘ailments,’ sometimes serious ones, are always important; indeed, they are truly indispensable. Beyond any discriminating view, human life always keeps its value in the eyes of God. For this reason, the elderly share fully in the mission of the Church, for they carry with them the memory and the wisdom of life, to pass it on to others.”

I say it once again: just as our parents cared for us when we were children, it is now our turn to care for them and keep them company when they fall ill and grow old.

More than a duty of justice, it is a joyful commandment, because there is nothing more beautiful than serving and accompanying our parents, even though it costs time and sacrifice. God bless all our elderly and sick!