Posted to Sister Zeph’s Journal
By Sister Zeph
On 13 October, 2014
Today, on my way to the office, I had a touching encounter with an elderly lady who happened to sit beside me on the vehicle. As the vehicle began its journey down the road, she became visibly apprehensive, clutching my hand tightly and inquiring about my destination. I couldn’t help but notice that her hands, weathered by time and marked by countless wrinkles, were trembling. Her body had aged to the point where it struggled to support the weight of her own hands.
Her stop was prior to mine, and as we rolled past lush green fields, her face lit up with contentment, relishing the fact that she wasn’t alone. I gazed into her eyes, which held a childlike wonder as she observed her surroundings, as if she were seeing such sights for the very first time. I ventured to ask if this place was new to her, to which she gently replied, “No, I have been living here, but I’m trying to fathom that this is a big city, yet there’s no place here for me to call home.”
She had left her own home because there wasn’t enough space at her son’s residence to accommodate her anymore, seeking refuge with relatives instead. Her response left me speechless because, in truth, there wasn’t much I could do to help her. Living with other relatives was a practical option, and I had no knowledge of any elderly care facilities in our city.
Throughout the remainder of the journey, I couldn’t help but reflect on her trembling hands. It struck me that one day, I too would become frail and aged like her. But before that day comes, it is incumbent upon us to create a world where, when our bodies can no longer bear the weight of years, our society will cradle us in its caring embrace. A world where we’ll continue to feel like an integral part of the community, where the elderly, including myself, are valued and not cast aside as useless or irrelevant.