The Christmas season is nearing its end. After the Baptism of Jesus on January 13, Christmas is officially over. As we wrap up our celebrations and get-togethers, gatherings where there are many people in one place, let’s think about those for whom these times might be rare opportunities to be with others.
I got to thinking about this after listening to my dad talk about visiting folks in the nursing home in New Ulm. He stopped by and talked to a gentleman who said Dad was the first person who had visited him in the six months since his family dropped him off. Dad couldn’t believe that, but had it confirmed upon talking to staff. I wanted to cry, listening to that.
Unfortunately, this is probably not an isolated case. And it’s not just nursing homes or assisted living facilities. At least in those settings, there are other people around, and the staff puts together activities and other times for all the residents to get together.
But what about those who still live on their own and are alone, somebody who lost a spouse and whose children and other family might live a distance off? There are surely shut-ins in our area, people who don’t get out and interact with society for various reasons.
I know it’s a shock to those who know me outside the confines of this column, but I enjoy being around people. There are literally hundreds of people at my job every day! Going to sporting events and other functions are highlights of my week.
But perhaps more shocking is that I also value my time alone. There are times where I just need not to be around anyone. In good weather, I might go sit on our patio and read for a while. If the weather is bad, I can hide in my office and write or play a little Candy Crush. Even a half hour in complete solitude can have restorative effects on my demeanor.
But I can’t imagine going too long without seeing people. When the kids were very young, I was home with them all day during the summer. I love my children, but the conversational skills of toddlers don’t quite match the stimulating level of even junior high students. There were times I felt alone, even with someone screeching to identify hunger or a full diaper. And so when I would have a baseball game to umpire in the evening, it was something to look forward to. Again, the time with my kids was precious, but I also needed time with groups of people.
And so I worry. I know there are people who are alone much of the time. Some of them might enjoy that to some degree. But I would guess most of them long for people to talk to and visit with, maybe even seeing somebody when they go to get the mail.
Plus, we live in an era where it’s so easy to touch base with people, no matter where you all might be located. We were at Verizon recently, and I overheard an older couple purchasing their first smart phone. It’s so easy to call, even if we’re on the run. With computer technology, you can Skype or Facetime and see each other as you talk. All it might take is helping someone figure out how to use that.
My parents aren’t lonely. They are very active in their retirement. But what will happen when I inevitably lose one of them? Will the other continue on, staying active and being involved with others?
I think about that a lot when I attend wakes or funerals. There is a great support system when we lose someone. People come together, bring food, cry with you and console you, and help you in your greatest time of need.
But what happens a week after the funeral? A month? A year? Where does everyone go? We all deal with grief and move on in different ways, but we can likely all be better at checking in periodically. I need to do a better job of that with people.
The older we get, the more we have to learn to deal with grief and loneliness. I sometimes hear senior citizens joke that their social calendars are determined by funeral homes. I hope it’s not just that, and that we can all do a good job of knowing when someone needs a conversation. Or knowing when being alone is okay and necessary as well.
Word of the Week: This week’s word is vociferate, which means to shout or utter loudly, as in, “Old Man Domeier was known to vociferate when those young rascals trampled across his yard.” Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!