Commodifying Seniors: Senior Is Not Senile

By Matahari V.

Commodifying Seniors is an East-West perspective on seniors. The writing emphasizes different lenses and different perceptions of seniors and caregivers in a conversational and experiential format. Issues are presented and solutions sought. The idea is to build awareness that ‘Senior Is Not Senile’ and there is ‘No Mental Menopause.’ 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Sep 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781649796301

Book preview

Introduction

Seniors are viewed from a tripod: The Senior, the family, and the long-term care home. These are the three voices questioning the reality of our beings. Our perspective depends upon cultural perceptions and mindsets. How we perceive seniors speak of our vision and values, integrity, culture, and clarity.

Mixed messages confound. When the medical fraternity do not speak to one another it is trial and error. When caregivers and family do not speak to one another gaps in care come into being. When communication between the family and seniors is formal, it loses meaning and becomes rhetoric. Hence, the estrangement and the ills that come from abandonment. These translate into health issues be they mental or physical.

Perceptive seniors feel that they cannot always voice their feelings. No amount of health foods will make up for the feeling of loneliness, loss, displacement, and being estranged. Emotional health is a much-neglected field. Transitions are difficult. Changing stance is unsettling. Consistency helps. We grow up but do not mature. If we could learn from the vine that bears grapes. They ripen and become sweet. So does a mature mind. It mellows. Then it becomes a refuge, a panacea, and a place to put one’s fears down. It does not heckle; it does not blame. Equanimity is the name of the game. It deals with all kindly. ‘The kindest word is the unkind word unsaid,’ goes the saying. Silence is not always kind. At times it is frustrating and downright rude, as it turns to indifference and impotency.

Seniors have invested their lives and resources in relationships. When we turn on them, it is a slap on their face. Faith is attacked. No matter how politely ingratitude is administered ‘it is still ingratitude’. Packaging does not make the content.

The Spirit is not dated. Seniors silently tucked away in forgotten corners are there, yet not there. They become shadows of who they were once. We can prevent this.

I hope to bring this awareness, so their voice is heard, their perspective considered, and the world seen from their eyes.

As such, I highlight an east-west perspective on the significance of age in two different cultures, through anecdotes. This is a period to celebrate achievement, and to pass the baton of experiential wisdom. This does not always happen. Seniors end up paying a price for ageing. They are not frozen goods with an expiration date on them. They are alive, not just breathing. We remember moments spent with a parent. She provided a home and sustainability. When we cried our voices were heard. As their memories fade, ours must enliven. ‘Gratitude is the memory of the heart’. When we march on nickels and dimes, calling the shots from an imagined reality, seniors suffer, it is misplaced loyalty.

I observed, perceived, and felt their pain under my skin, till my blood curdled and there came a flaming passion to speak up, for this much ignored aspect of age we tend to negate. We need to break parochial prisons of perception and embrace humanity.

Age is an important phase of being human. One day we will be in their shoes and feel abandoned. We will look at the open door and wait to hear footsteps that may never come. What will we do that day? What will we say to ourselves? I lost myself in pursuit of material clutter. I nurtured a family and am outside it now? I loved and they left? Where will we stand if not by our seniors, for our seniors, shoulder to shoulder seeing the sun set?

1

Staying active in the key

The Culture of Isolation

An East-West Perspective

I remember my mother’s words: I fear loneliness, not aloneness, being outside the hub of life because my hair greyed, my skin sagged, my limbs weakened. These were words from a gregarious, outgoing, cheerful lady who lit up the room she walked in. An astute businesswoman, a loving wife, a caring mother, and a very responsible person. She was not afraid to be alone but petrified of being lonely. She had hobbies like knitting and cooking, and in my growing years I wore sweaters knitted by her and savoured nutritious meals. She said she enjoyed all she did. That is what made a difference. The spirit of joy in all we do for another makes all the difference.

Yet, when she lay alone on her bed in her last few years, there was no one by her side. Dad had passed away. She became very lonely. He was more than a husband; he was a true companion. Sadness enveloped her cheerful smile when she spoke of him in the past.

Her eyes lit up when I entered the room. She would endeavor to get up and smile her old smile again. I would sit by her side and reminisce. This, she said, is the bane of age – this loneliness – not being able to be a part and parcel of one’s bygone years. The world had changed. Her core being remained the same. Her lens and priorities stayed while the world changed.

The senior who once was the centerstage of every family in the east was now on the back burner. He had to adjust, not the young ones. While they frolicked with youthful fantasy, he struggled with words. Taken for granted we do not realize that the road ahead is getting shorter. Regrets will be futile. When we kill time, we kill the essentials of time too. Our consciousness does not factor this in our relationships. The common misperception is: ‘They will be there when we return from work, holiday or wherever else we wish to be.’ This does not happen. One never knows when one says goodbye to a loved one. One also does not know which day is the last day of one’s life on earth.

Roshan did not know when her daughter saw him off at the train station it