T2-Indian River Club Living-Vol.553

Indian

Anne L. Morgan, M.D.

RUSS MONTGOMERY, NBC-HIS

Hifolks. I’ve had quite a few emails over the past few weeks, all on the topic of loneliness, from senior citizens who have either lost a loved one, or have relocated to our area. Funny how related topics crop up in my email from time to time, as if the universe has sensed the need to take a closer look at the sadness that has permeated many of our friends and neighbors. You might not know them by name, or if you do, you might not have guessed their vulnerability when you run into them at the grocery store, but there are a lot of very alone, lonely people trying to gure out how to live the rest of their lives without companionship, and sometimes, even without conversation.

eir emails provoke memories of my own mother, who lived alone until she was almost 96, staunchly independent, having lost two husbands. On my rounds coming home from work, busy, running to the market, guring out dinner, bringing her over a hot meal, then running home to my own family, I would o en look at my watch as I pulled into her parking lot, noticing my time of arrival, and estimating the respectable amount of time I would stay with her, before rushing home. A er I put away her groceries, made her dinner, tidied up her house, did some laundry, and put her dishes away, I noticed that an hour had passed, and it was time for me to go. is went on for some years prior, but as one year turned into the next, and she was less mobile, having given up her freedom by way of giving up her automobile, she sometimes made comments such as “are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?” Sometimes

I did, but reluctantly, not that I didn’t enjoy her company, but because my schedule with work, a husband, and household tasks hovered in my head, and much of the time, I would reminder that I had already been there for an hour, and I would return the next day. She’d smile, and tell me to have a good night, and I’d leave, rushing home for my next duties. My life was so lled with duties, that it didn’t occur to me how lonely she was, that she had 23 out of 24 hours by herself, with the television her only friend. Most of the people she once knew had died, and because she was no longer active in her condo community, she hadn’t made any new acquaintances. I was her only “friend” but I didn’t know it then, too self-absorbed with my own life.

My mother has been gone three years now, the last few spent in a nursing home, where I again visited her every day for one hour, and again, she’d look at me with eyes that said, “can’t you stay a little longer?” I had no idea what loneliness was, until now, until my own husband passed away, my own children have grown and moved on with their lives, until I received the emails asking me, begging me, to tell these readers how to ll their time. I look back and regret every day that I didn’t o er my mother more, whatever more might have been, and that I thought I had to rush home to take care of my own dishes and laundry, but if I could turn back time, if I had one more chance, if I could live without regret, I would have taken the evening to sit with her, not to cook and clean, but to tell her stories, to ask her what she was thinking, what memories she might have had that day, and how important she was to me. I

can’t do that. It’s too late for me, but it may not be too late for you.

If you have an older friend or relative, do not assume that they’re ne, just because they put on a brave front. Time goes slowly when you have nothing to look forward to, and no one to talk to. Take the time, o er some of yourself to someone, even if you don’t know them, even if it’s just a kind word to a stranger at the grocery store. We, in Florida, are a group of people more so than most states, who have lost spouses, who are growing older, and who are lonely, with lifelong friends who are sick or passing away.

For What It’s Worth, I can’t give my mother more of my time, but I can give it to others, every day, with a smile or kind word. I don’t know where to point these readers who have asked me how to make friends and where to nd them, but I do know that the obvious answers, joining a group of people with like interests aren’t always possible for those who are in rm or unable to drive. Take a good, hard look in your neighborhood, at your places of worship, at the grocery store, and you might just nd someone who would appreciate some time. You won’t be sorry.

Ph.D.

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