By Brenda Cannon Henley
I am leaving the state of Mississippi in the morning after visiting, as best I could, with two precious women that I love very much. Both are widows now, but were very active and giving citizens through their long professional lives. Both held jobs of importance, worked hard while rearing a family, suffered loss, and learned to deal with obstacles and health issues as ages advanced.

One of the sisters lives in a nice apartment and cares mostly for her own needs with help. A caregiver comes in three days each week and does laundry, sweeping, vacuuming, and mopping. She has made friends with her neighbors and enjoys going to the library to gather books she will enjoy reading.

The other sister is an entirely different story and one that left me feeling broken hearted and sad. You may be thinking at this point in my writing, “Why are you telling us this?”

After some searching, inquiring, and speaking with several people in authority, I have discovered I am only beginning to understand the magnitude of the lonely elderly in our world today. We have an epidemic proportion of seniors that have little to no contact with family members, old friends, neighbors, former co-workers, or, in many cases, fellow church members.

I have always had an interest in elderly people because my maternal grandmother reared me during my early formative years. She was the solid rock of my childhood and I love and respect her for her unconditional love, hard work ethic, and the many life lessons learned from her. Much of what I know and practice in my life today is based on truths learned at her knee, in her kitchen, on trips to town with her, and in hours spent on the back porch glider.

Adulthood has given me the opportunity to work with various senior groups both in my church and in my community. Our small study group, The Broken Pots, has taken on the communication chore with the home bound or care center based men and women of our church and others that have been added by friends and relatives.

Our group is now in the process of crafting beautiful cards, which the seniors love and appreciate very much, to send to our older friends. When COVID 19 hit, our group made, bought, and sent over 450 cards to individuals in nursing homes and care centers. We have kept our communication going on a steady basis during these mounting months.

It may not strike you as a very big thing, but it is huge to the receivers. Staff members assure us that when a card arrives, they are thrilled. Many keep their cards on tray tables or nightstands and go through them often bringing a smile to their face.

My heart was stirred yesterday and today when I arrived in Ocean Springs to participate in my first COVID 19 visit. I had heard about them in Texas, Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, and North Carolina, but had never gone to one. The resident is brought to a common area with an outside window and the visitor is shown to the area nearest the window. A canopy or small tent is in place to shade the guest from wind, rain, or sun. The staff member with the resident calls on the guest’s cell phone so that conversation can be exchanged.

It had been seven months since I had seen my friend. I had mailed cards, but no contact had been made in person. I was shocked when I saw my friend.She did not look the same physically. Her normally styled hair was too long and unkempt looking. She wore none of her usual make up and was dressed in a duster I had bought four years ago. But the worst of all to me was the fact that she wasn’t smiling. She was glad to see us, but there was no light in her normally happy eyes.

She said twice during our visit, “I am on a downward spiral that I won’t come out of, I fear.” We tried to impart cheerful words and bring encouragement. Her appearance and condition was literally a blow to my heart.

I spoke with two staff members and learned that during the 7-8 months of the lock down, the most outgoing and vivacious have suffered the greatest. They thrive on human contact and interaction. All of a sudden, family members stopped coming. Many members of various medical teams were rearranged and new physicians and nurses were introduced. Very little remained the same.

What are you willing to do to reach out to these good people? Could your class or church adopt some seniors? Could you make telephone calls? Perhaps your group can send cards or acceptable treats. Check with the individual care center for current rules and regulations and what will be allowed. We simply cannot allow these people who loved us remain sad and alone. How much do you care?

Brenda Cannon Henley can be reached at 409 781 8788, or
[email protected]

[Oct-5-2020]