I don’t know what I’d do without you

We are 100+ days into a COVID lock down here in NSW Australia, it has taken its toll on everyone in different ways.  Our state government has leaned heavily on technology to help with the management of contact tracing and in turn our mobile phones have become an even more vital part of modern-day life as we check in and out of places we visit.  But, tomorrow we will see our first major lifting of restrictions and the one most wanted by my mum, she’ll be able to go and see dad in his care home.  All she’ll have to do is show her proof she has been double vaxed, wear a mask and she’s in.  For us that keep ourselves up to date with the newest technology that would be easy, but not for my mum, she is of the old school, never saw the importance of having a mobile phone dispite having a number of hand me downs from us kids, or understanding how to use a computer.  Now approaching her 80th year, with a diminishing mental capacity and unwillingness to learn a new skill the technological age is way beyond her reach.  So, there will be no showing her double vaxed status on her mobile phone screen to get access to see dad.

 All is not lost, of course mum is not the only one in this position and it took a simple phone call to a special number found on the Australian Government website for the Australian Immunisation Register and the helpful staff on the other end are sending out a certificate showing mums immunisation history.  So, as I got off the phone and explained to mum that the letter would be here in about 10 days she said;

 “I don’t know what I would do without you”

 Of course, I didn’t show it, but that familiar stab of sadness hit me again.  I was sad because that formidable woman who was once my mum is no longer there.  I knew that if one of us wasn’t there to do this for her, she would have just resigned herself to the fact that she’d not be able to see dad again, working herself up into a panic, because she couldn’t work out for herself how to navigate the systems needed or even where to start.

 I’m sad because she has no friends that could have assisted here. Even pre-covid there would be no one that would pop around for a cuppa, apart from children who live close by.  How does someone getting to their twilight years with no friends, no additional support network that would be an additional layer of social interaction. Of course, I know the answer to this, Mum and Dad were so busy with us and establishing themselves here in Australia, they forgot to enjoy it along the way.

 When he retired, we’d say “Why don’t you take mum out for a drive and have coffee somewhere nice” he’d always return with “Why, we can have tea and coffee here together”

 Ironically, another reason for this is my dad was never a social person, he was happy just coming home to Mum after work, sit in his favourite chair and watch TV or read a book.  There were never friends popping over, no gregarious dinners or parties in the back garden.  There were never any holidays taken with other people, I remember tagging along on holidays with my mum’s sister and her family, but never did mum and dad have a getaway with friends. My mum would have enjoyed times like these, she is a social person, but that ship has sailed.  The irony comes as my dad is now living in a care home making friends and entertaining the staff, whilst mum sits alone at home, defiant she will never be ‘put away in a home’.  As her children manage her, manage covid, manage lockdowns and manage their own lives in these complex times.

 I feel sad because as I sit opposite her, I think this could be both Vickie and I, sitting there with no idea the world around us has change dramatically due to how quickly technology advances.  Like a rabbit in the headlights, stunned and not sure where to turn.

 I feel sad because we won’t have someone like me, to look after us when we get to the stage in life my parents are and it scares us both. It’s a tough time mentally right now as we both try to navigate our best way through this, we are lucky we have each other, we both know intimately what each is going through.  We think about those who are single and childless, dealing with ageing parents, with no significant other to lean on, or those childless couples with one of them needing care and having no children to fall back on, it must be so so tough.

 We as a community really need to start talking about this, we need to recognise that robust friendships will be a way to help manage these situations.  We need to step out of the shadow, gather our tribe and create those networks that can assist us as we age.

 As I chat with mum, it becomes evident she regrets not having friends, she regrets not having a friend pop around for a cuppa, or being asked around for dinner, or asked out on a day trip with ‘the girls’.

 So, to finish, I want to ask you a question, when you are in your twilight years, will you be sitting on your lounge alone, full of regret and no support network around you?

 If you, like us, want to build up that friendship network, please reach out and lets build a more positive supportive future.