Being Independent Is Worthless If It Means Dying Alone After 70
We need each other, through all the highs and lows.
The world we live in is dominated by technology and social media. Sociability is essential for being human, and being independent gives you the opportunity to manoeuvre in society and mingle with people.
It makes friendships, networking and collaboration possible. Everyone should have the opportunity to live independently and with dignity, especially our elderly population.
One of the most challenging obstacles with aging is that you’ll eventually outlive your friends. Also, the fact that many people find it increasingly difficult to make good friends as they age.
But as one needs more and more help in the activities of daily living, it can make a big difference whether or not one has a group of friends available to share the burdens. Having people around at old age ensures more security and wellness.
Connection is a core human need
If you are familiar with the Aspen tree, you may have noticed that it does not grow on its own. Aspens can be found in clusters. The reason is that aspens can multiply from the roots. They send out many new shoots every year.
These become saplings that grow quickly and produce new aspens on their own. In some groups, all trees can have their roots connected. As they’re like one tree, they thrive together.
Another example is the desert rock and moss. Mosses do not have root. They grow well on a hard surface and in cold temperature.
That’s why a dehydrated moss can survive drought weeks and will revive speedily when moistened.
Rocks on the other hand are hard on the surface. They can endure harsh sunlight without fading. They also provide increased humidity for mosses underneath it.
Mosses keep rocks warm in the sun and help them retain heat longer than air. That’s why the space under rocks are airy and cool in summer and in winter.
Also the rocks shield mosses from the sun, which makes mosses living under rocks retain water more than mosses exposed on the soil.
When I read this poem by Darshak Rana, it reminded me of how much we need each other — to grow, to protect and to nourish.
“The moss — thinking of a place to grow It looked at the majestic rock. The rock smirked hubristically, Thinking, “I am firm, mighty, and unbreakable.”
The moss pleaded in silence, Allow me to grow and flourish. I shall save your heart from heat and rains. Just open your heart, and I shall nourish.”
The rock remained unmoved and unfazed. It said, “Let me teach you something about life. I have seen more suns and moons. And I need no one to fight my battles.”
Don’t be rude,” persisted the moss, but its effort laid in vain. So, the moss decided to conquer with love. It gathered the courage to mark its area.
Slowly and steadily, the mushy moss grew. It had faith and confidence that the rock‘s heart will melt, that the rock will love, once again.
The heat of a wildfire, didn’t move the rock, but the warmth of moss’s love melted rock’s heart.”
People, too, are connected by a system of roots. We grow up in families that nurture and guide us. We learn early to make friends who support us in different ways. We are not supposed to survive long without each other.
And like aspens, we do best when we hold on and help each other survive the storms of life. We need others to support us, encourage us, and help us.
We are too weak to love
I’ve spent the better part of my years, teaching myself that love doesn’t fix anything. For me, love makes one weak.
It’ll just add to the wonderful, scary, joyful, upsetting, and euphoric mess of life. It’s funny how easy it is to still feel a little brainwashed by this idea that a romantic partner can make your life better.
After a couple of heartbreaks, I’ve made huge progress in concealing my emotions, but there are still moments in which I fall into that old trap.
At the point of surrendering, when I feel discouraged about the state of my romantic life. When I get frustrated by having to revisit old lessons, that old message can rise to the surface so easily, causing me to deal with another blow in the form of overwhelming sorrow.
Fortunately, I have trained my subconscious mind to assume responsibility for my happiness in a different pattern. I put it upon myself to make my life interesting.
I am responsible for finding ways to fall in love — with the world, with myself, with my loved ones, every single day. I’m responsible for my own happiness.
But when I think about life after 70, dying alone in a nursing home, countries away from my family and friends, scares the hell out of me.
I have lived an independent life so well that it should be inconceivable that a fragile thought of dying would tear down my walls bit by bit.
We need each other to heal
During my darkest moments, I often imagined how much easier it would have been if I had someone to lean on. Life is hard. Sometimes is cruel.
The challenges we face in life reminds us that we don’t have to face them by ourselves. If you’ve ever experienced depression you would know what I’m talking about. Though we cannot heal each other, we can help each other heal.
There are people who can help you heal faster than others. We all exist with different personalities, energies and abilities. With different strengths and experiences. And we need all that. We all need each other.
Because if we all do our part, if we do our best, use and share every ounce of our gifts we have to help one another heal, the world will be at peace. Because we are closer, more connected, more similar than we think.
What happens when someone dies alone
When it comes to the number of people dying alone and unnoticed for days, however, there are no official statistics.
For the most part, a study shows at least 90 per cent of them lived on their own. Another quarter of people aged above 60 said they did not have a friend or a relative whom they could call on for help.
The thought of dying like that, without anyone knowing, can be scary. In the past, people lived alone mostly because of a spouse’s death, or they did not have other family members.
Nowadays, the reason is a lot more diverse. Also, people older than 65, who are healthy, and have the means, might choose to live alone. Even though they have other family members who can live with them.
Most people who die alone are often unprepared. Their corpses are undiscovered for days, some stay for months. Others when found, their cremated bodies sit on the shelves of funeral homes for years.
When my great aunt died two years ago, I caught a glimpse of a life without friends- bitter, empty, hallow, darkened, and lonely. She died at 94. She inherited all my great uncle’s estates leaving nothing for the children he had with his first wife.
She had no child of her own and she never remarried. So she alienated herself from the entire family. She lived miles away from the metropolitan area. No one visited her because she had no friends or neighbors.
Her corpse was found in her bathroom about four months later by her gardener. He said he had not heard from her for a while, so he went to check on her. The rotten smell coming from inside the house made him call the police. Autopsy reports stated that she died of a brain aneurysm.
We push people away because we are too confident in ourselves. When I’m not doing well, it is often because I am going through something alone. I don’t always let others in.
I don’t usually ask for help. I keep my problems to myself. And though, I may not show it, that doesn’t mean I do not need someone to share my worries with.
If you’re young and reading this, it’s not late to let someone in. Just like the aspens tree, the moss and rock, we need each other.
You can let someone else help hold you up for a while, or you can let someone hang on to you. You don’t have to live out your years in solitude. No one should.
