Thought for today:
"One of life's greatest fears for many today, is growing old alone and having nobody by their deathbed or at their funeral service when the time comes to depart this life. I was reading recently that there are thousands of old people, secreted away in their own little flats, and who sometimes go up to two months without seeing anybody to talk to.The same newspaper article also indicated that many old people, both residents of their own flat/house or an Old Folk's Home, rarely receive visits from their sons and daughters.
All of this just appears to give credence to the notion that people are too busy with their own lives to either notice or care about the lives of others, even their own family, friends and neighbours. At 20 we worry what others think of us, at 40 we don't care and it is only when we hit 75 and over that we learn that they don't think of us at all!
On the other hand, I also know of a number of very independent individuals, whom despite being elderly and living alone, actually like their own company and their way of life; although I'd have to admit that it is much fewer in number than those who crave company. Being a person who has always visited some elderly person who lives alone for most of my life, I recall George, an 86 year old widower who lived next door but one to me in Mirfield. Until he was well into his 85th year, George could be seen walking to the Coop every day to get his shopping. He was an immensely proud and independent man who would never allow anyone to do for him, anything he could do himself. He always refused offers to have someone else carry his shopping bag when filled, and instantly refused 'meals on wheels' when I once suggested the service to him. Even though I made a point of knocking on his door daily to check he was okay, until his 86th year, and then, only after he'd had a stroke, would he allow me inside his home.
For most of his older years, George shunned offers of help from younger neighbours; like one would a wet blanket on one's bed. He once got very annoyed with me after I offered to do something for him and said, 'I'm not losing my marbles, you know. Let me tell you, Mr Forde, if I burn down the house or stab a neighbour, it won't be because I'm going senile; it will be because I mean it!' In essence George had discovered that the secret of contented old age was to make peace with solitude and to be happy with one's own company.
When George entered his 86th year, he sadly started to go senile and it was when he started to lose his wits that he allowed me to enter his house and help him. Within a year, George was admitted into an Old Folk's Home and three months after admission, he died. I only managed to see him twice in his Old Folk's Home, and in truth, he never knew I had visited, but it made me feel better for going.
After George died, I read somewhere about another old man who had visited his wife as regular as clockwork after she'd been taken into an Old Folk's Home, despite it taking up most of his afternoon in preparing for the visit, bringing her some of her favourite chocolates and travelling there and back. His 86 year old wife had dementia and had been in her Nursing Home for 14 years. The couple had been married for sixty two years, yet each time he visited her in the home, she failed to recognise him and would even speak to him occasionally as though he was her brother or another person.When asked why he still visited a woman who'd lost her memory and had long since forgotten who he was, he replied, 'Because I haven't forgotten who she was or what she means to me!'
Being in love with the same partner for over sixty years must be one of the most wonderful experiences a couple could ever know. If I was ever able to play God, I would arrange for each couple who have loved a lifetime, to die within seconds of each other, and never to feel the pangs of separation of spousal loss.
I will end upon a thought which has always amused me and which I suspect holds the secret of how one lives their life. I have often wondered how old I would be if I didn't know how old I was?" William Forde: August 22nd, 2016.
"One of life's greatest fears for many today, is growing old alone and having nobody by their deathbed or at their funeral service when the time comes to depart this life. I was reading recently that there are thousands of old people, secreted away in their own little flats, and who sometimes go up to two months without seeing anybody to talk to.The same newspaper article also indicated that many old people, both residents of their own flat/house or an Old Folk's Home, rarely receive visits from their sons and daughters.
All of this just appears to give credence to the notion that people are too busy with their own lives to either notice or care about the lives of others, even their own family, friends and neighbours. At 20 we worry what others think of us, at 40 we don't care and it is only when we hit 75 and over that we learn that they don't think of us at all!
On the other hand, I also know of a number of very independent individuals, whom despite being elderly and living alone, actually like their own company and their way of life; although I'd have to admit that it is much fewer in number than those who crave company. Being a person who has always visited some elderly person who lives alone for most of my life, I recall George, an 86 year old widower who lived next door but one to me in Mirfield. Until he was well into his 85th year, George could be seen walking to the Coop every day to get his shopping. He was an immensely proud and independent man who would never allow anyone to do for him, anything he could do himself. He always refused offers to have someone else carry his shopping bag when filled, and instantly refused 'meals on wheels' when I once suggested the service to him. Even though I made a point of knocking on his door daily to check he was okay, until his 86th year, and then, only after he'd had a stroke, would he allow me inside his home.
For most of his older years, George shunned offers of help from younger neighbours; like one would a wet blanket on one's bed. He once got very annoyed with me after I offered to do something for him and said, 'I'm not losing my marbles, you know. Let me tell you, Mr Forde, if I burn down the house or stab a neighbour, it won't be because I'm going senile; it will be because I mean it!' In essence George had discovered that the secret of contented old age was to make peace with solitude and to be happy with one's own company.
When George entered his 86th year, he sadly started to go senile and it was when he started to lose his wits that he allowed me to enter his house and help him. Within a year, George was admitted into an Old Folk's Home and three months after admission, he died. I only managed to see him twice in his Old Folk's Home, and in truth, he never knew I had visited, but it made me feel better for going.
After George died, I read somewhere about another old man who had visited his wife as regular as clockwork after she'd been taken into an Old Folk's Home, despite it taking up most of his afternoon in preparing for the visit, bringing her some of her favourite chocolates and travelling there and back. His 86 year old wife had dementia and had been in her Nursing Home for 14 years. The couple had been married for sixty two years, yet each time he visited her in the home, she failed to recognise him and would even speak to him occasionally as though he was her brother or another person.When asked why he still visited a woman who'd lost her memory and had long since forgotten who he was, he replied, 'Because I haven't forgotten who she was or what she means to me!'
Being in love with the same partner for over sixty years must be one of the most wonderful experiences a couple could ever know. If I was ever able to play God, I would arrange for each couple who have loved a lifetime, to die within seconds of each other, and never to feel the pangs of separation of spousal loss.
I will end upon a thought which has always amused me and which I suspect holds the secret of how one lives their life. I have often wondered how old I would be if I didn't know how old I was?" William Forde: August 22nd, 2016.
