A Sad Lesson from Across the Street

"There's something I want to tell you." When my 91 year-old neighbor said this to me, my ears perked up, and I instantly knew that I needed to listen carefully. I guess I have been taught to value age and the wisdom that comes with years. I miss regularly being around my own grandparents, so I was happy to find that a sweet widow lived across the street from us. Luke and I are regular visitors now. I don't want to forget how to interact with elderly people; I want to keep loving them and teach Luke to love them too.

"There's something I want to tell you. The older I get, the more I see what kind of mother I was." Gladys stumbled over her words, searching for the right ones. For a few months now, I have known that Gladys' grown children have been trying to talk her into moving into an assisted-living establishment. She will have none of it. "It costs $3,000 a month," she tells me. By her tone, I can tell she thinks this is preposterous. Today, I could really tell she was hurt though. Two of her daughters were just leaving when Luke and I came up the walk. One of them lamented the situation to me, explaining that her sister had arranged for Gladys to move to the assisted-living place tomorrow. The visit had not gone well. "She has dementia real bad. She can't do anything, you know." As Gladys' daughter told me these words, I felt some sympathy, but also indignation. I suppose no elderly person, truly suffering from dementia, will willingly admit such is the case. I have to admit that Gladys seems to get along remarkably well to me. Of course, she cannot drive; she cannot grocery shop, she cannot mow her lawn. She is 91 years old, for the love! But, someone from church picks her up each Sunday; a kind neighbor takes care of the lawn; and her daughter brings her groceries. These are the only times I have seen any visitors: someone will pull up, carry in the groceries, and leave. Gladys has never bluntly told me that her children never come to see her, but I have noticed that such is the case. Today, she was heartbroken.

"During the war, many women were leaving their homes to go work at the big place over in Indiana. But, I would not do it. I wouldn't leave my home. I had four children, and I wouldn't leave my home for anything." Gladys explained that such was the case with her mother, and that was how she was raised. "But, I made a mistake." Here I waited for invaluable wisdom. I am a young mom of 24, waiting with open arms to catch what I could from this 91 year-old mother. "I was too good of a mother." As the conversation continued, I think what Gladys meant, was that - simply put - she raised spoiled, selfish children. "I raised them to think they are the best children in the world. And they're not." Once again, she steered the conversation toward the evil assisted-living establishment. I searched for words that would comfort and calm her. I didn't feel right saying something like, "I'm sure your children love you," because I was afraid that it wasn't really the truth. I lamely muttered, "Your children are just worried about you. They want you to be ok." To this, Gladys smirked, in a sad way, and said, "Worry about me? They never come. They never call. They never do anything for me." I sadly listened, my heart aching for this woman. I know it is true. Brian and Chris recently did 4 hours of yard work. Julie helped her clean her house a few weeks ago. But, Gladys insists that she does not have dementia. She suspects that her children want the house and property.

I am not in a position to judge this family's situation. I have lived across the street for a mere 3 months. I do not know what kind of mother Gladys has been. But, she is a sweet, kind soul. She has the laugh of a child. This is one of the things I love most about her. Luke gives her endless amusement. "What a baby doll! Look at it (she calls Luke "it") walk. Ain't that darlin'? Look at it smile. Aww, ain't that precious. His daddy must just love him!"

I feel so sad. What can I do? I can keep visiting her, although now I am worried that she may not be living across the street too much longer. And I can pray for her. I am not sure if she is a believer in Christ or not. She has gone to a liberal Baptist church for 50 years, but I don't think it was always liberal. Today, before I left, I shared with her that I would pray for her. That, regardless of her children's love for her, Jesus cared for her and would watch over her, no matter what.

I am also filled with further resolve to reach out to this older generation. Not because I am such a sweet girl and have so much to offer them. I'm not always, and I don't. But, because I want to honor them and respect their experience in light of my ignorance. And because I want to teach this to my children, as my mom and dad taught me. This is a small example of how today's society respects life less and less if it is no longer useful and profitable. May it never be in the Church, or in my family.

What elderly person are you especially blessed by? Email me and share, or please leave a comment. (Yes, you will need to register with Blogger. But, it is fast and free; and if you remember your password, you can easily comment from then on.) I know by hearing from my own grandparents, how much it means to them that I call, write, and regularly show concern for them. Take the few minutes it requires to do the same to your own special "older people." And if you don't have grandparents anymore, find someone who doesn't have grandchildren who care like you would. There are too many of that type of people in the world.