a Geriatric's tale

So here I am, at the foot of her clinical bed, watching her have a lunch of chopped liver and carrot rice porridge, when suddenly it occurs to me that it is already end June and she will be turning 80 in a couple of months' time.

 

It is a sobering thought.

 

A very sobering thought.

 

See, turning 80 years of age is a huge thing in Chinese tradition, and it is not uncommon for families to organize huge, extravagant birthday dinners for the Elder, where in attendance will be the children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, old friends, neighbors and much of the extended family.

 

But for her, this elderly lady spooning porridge into her mouth, I'm afraid it will be a much quieter one.

 

She has no grandchildren. She has no great-grandchildren. She has an extended family, but they are however distant, and she has no old friends or neighbors whom she can send an invitation to.

There is a spouse, but I don't know whether her spouse will celebrate with her, and neither am I sure whether he remembers.

 

Now, some might argue that it really is not a big deal as it is with the geriatric elderly who are truly living all alone by themselves, with no kith or kin.

I agree.

After all, she does have a child- a son- and it is no doubt that he will commemorate the special day with her. 
 

But what if I told you that for nearly all of her life, she had never expected herself to be this way, and that it was only four years ago, that she got the slightest hint of what her 80th birthday might be? What if I told you that up to four years ago, she believed, very firmly, that her husband, her son and her adopted daughter would  forever be by her side, that they would always be together as a family, and that there'd always be the four of them for birthday celebrations and the like? 

I'm aware that there is an aging population out there, that there are many elderly living alone, and there are also, sadly, elderly who die alone. I'm aware that this is a concern of many a social service worker and governments, but this is really Miss Brown's own story- and high time it is that her tale, however shocking, however sorrowful, be told.

 

What it may do, what it can do, whether it will be dismissed, whether it will be sympathized, I don't know, but every voice, every life, whether great or ordinary, is as valued as the other, and this story is exclusively hers- as much she has told me, as much as I have experienced together with her.