We have a neighbor who was old when we moved here 21 years ago. She is 99 now, and on the last part of her journey. I got to visit with her today. It was very strange, and a little sad. I swear the clock ticking on the wall sounded like it was counting out her last moments. Still, it was nice to hold her hand, and listen to her wisdom. She worried many times what to do about her pigs that she left behind when her family had to follow the retreating Germans out of Ukraine in 1944. She had 3-4 cows, two nice horses, and two pigs. All of them they had to give away. It greaves her still. She had to leave the house when they slaughtered the pigs. The sound was too much for her. She also had to leave her 6 month old baby son behind when the left because as he was very sick. They were afraid he would not make it. Rightly so. After the war she told me some days she and her husband would work hard all day for a slice of bread. She didn’t see her son again until the 90s.
Sonya is now bed-ridden, with round the clock care. One of her caretakers was happy to be upbeat about God and her purpose in life; nattering on about stupid bullshit. “Oh, but there is a plan. God is not through you with yet.” That kind of thing.
After the caretake left, and Sonya told me the same thing she had said to the caretaker, “Life is not fair,” I didn’t argue with her, but agreed, whole-heartedly. Life is unfair, there is struggle at every turn. That’s how it is.
Sonya’s face is now puffy, her body is shriveled, and every breath a damp sounding wheeze. Just drinking a sip of water through a straw was exhausting for her. Her memory is not so good either. I had to tell her four times how Teri (my wife) is doing, and three times how our son is doing. I don’t mind. I gave a slightly different answer each time. She liked the longer ones. Sonya didn’t want to hear that Teri was fine, what she wanted was to hear all the stupid little things that we are filling our life with at this current moment. When you are near the end of your time, hearing about other peoples minor dramas is apparently calming.
When you think about it, this makes total sense. Sonya is stuck in a bed, with a mind that she cannot rely upon any more, and a body that is so reduced that getting a shower, or sitting in a wheel chair outside in the sun so your hair can dry is the highlight of your week. Otherwise, life is just sitting in a room, with four walls that have got to feel like they are closing in, and a clock that keeps ticking, and ticking. The rest of the world now carries on without you. You can only live it vicariously, via briefs glimpses through your bedroom window, or the short visits of neighbors and friends. This is remarkably similar to how we treat prisoners.
If I was in her shoes, OF COURSE, I would be saying life is unfair. It is unfair. That doesn’t mean we can stop and cry like children, we still have to keep moving, but I’m not going to lie to a woman who has faced far more dangers than I ever will, and I certainly am not going to deny her experience because it is uncomfortable, or goes against my religion.
Let me tell you, old people can be very real. Shut up and pay attention. Your turn will come along soon enough, if you are lucky to live that long.