Alone.

Today I met someone at work who broke my heart. She was 93, unable to walk on her own, and except for meals – often alone in her room laying in bed.

She has people taking care of her, and she spoke fondly of them with me,  but the majority of her time is spent with herself.

The pain she often feels in her legs makes it so that she doesn’t want to join activities anymore. “It just hurts too much….and I can’t do anything anyway. I can hardly see!” She said.

Silence.

Then she turned my way: “But that’s ok, I’ve lived a full life, you know!”  Her British accent was lovely. So was her brave smile. “Don’t you worry about me…I’m fine here.” She said, and grabbed one of my hands. I’ve learned to live with it – what else can a 93 year old expect really? I know plenty of others younger than me who are much worse off!”

Another brave smile. I squeezed her hand gently and nodded.Then I wondered if she could see me nodding in agreement. “Yes, you’re right.” I said to encourage her. “There are lots of folks out there who are having a very hard time indeed.”

She smiles again. “That’s right, dear.”

I love that British accent of hers, and it feels good to be called “Dear” by an older person. Have you ever been called that?  It makes my heart warm. Reminds me of my Grandma.

But talking with this lady today touched me with how frail we can become, and how badly we need to work at protecting our relationships – the close ones that matter most. Wife. Husband. Son. Daughter. Brother. Sister. Father. Mother.  Friends?

This lady didn’t seem to have close relationships, other than the lovely care teams that take care of her where she lives. But do they count? They’re paid to be there.

I saw the word ‘Estranged’ on her file – it was connected to a few members of her family.  It’s an adjective that means: no longer close or affectionate to someone; alienated.

It means laying by yourself in a room when you’re 93.