Two recent incidents reminded me how lonely old age can be for some.
Incident 1:
Six years ago, I lost a good friend. He was the brightest in our engineering class, the first to get a PhD, and the fastest to receive a Green Card in the US. A pioneer in the field of Bioinformatics in India, he led a jet-setting life, constantly flying between Bangalore, London, and New York.
But his demanding profession took a toll on his marriage. His wife left him after they had two children. He lived the last nine years of his life completely alone. “It’s hard, mate,” he once told me.
Recently, I visited his widowed mother, a nonagenarian who also lives alone. Her only daughter lives in the US. As she served me his favorite food, adai and tomato curry, she said, “I knew you would visit.” His death anniversary had clearly rekindled memories for both of us.
Our conversation turned to his life. Speaking of his broken marriage, she remarked, “One of them should have backed down. They were always fighting over something or the other.” It struck me as a painful but true observation. Without give and take, no marriage survives. Maybe my friend would still be with us today if his marriage hadn’t ended. Perhaps, if they had not separated, he wouldn’t have tried to fill the emptiness with alcohol.
Incident 2:
“Can you drop me to Star Bazaar?”
I ignored the request at first. I had just come out of the church after the noon Mass and was about to get into my car. It was a busy working day, and I had a meeting with my auditor and was running late.
But just as I turned the ignition on, something made me look at her again. She was an elderly woman. I asked, “Where do you want to go?” She repeated her request. It was on the way to my office, so I said, “Get in, I’ll drop you.”
She got in, visibly grateful, and began to talk. I learned she was from Mangalore. Her husband had worked in one of the major oil companies in the Gulf, but now he was bedridden with a serious illness. They lived in an apartment in Bangalore. Their two sons lived abroad, one in the US and the other in Australia, each with children of their own.
As we talked, I realized her destination was actually quite a bit off my route, and I would have to brave bumper-to-bumper traffic. She was apologetic.
By then, I didn’t mind. I could tell she was lonely. She now had to manage everything herself, tasks her husband once took care of.
“I’m 77 years old,” she said, then asked about my family. Before she got out, she thanked me warmly and promised to say three Hail Marys for me in return.
I felt blessed to have met her.
These two incidents reminded me of the words of Pope Leo: “Visiting an elderly person is a way of encountering Jesus, who frees us from indifference and loneliness.”
I was also moved by his recent announcement extending the plenary indulgence granted by Pope Francis to those who spend time with the elderly, as part of the Jubilee Year.
I’ve resolved to spend more time with the elderly, whether through planned visits or those unexpected encounters the Lord sends my way, like the one with the 77-year-old Mangalorean woman.
