The past few weeks of my life have been largely focused on elderly people.
First, my grandmother suffered a fall in the bathroom and became bedridden. My grandfather was suddenly left to take care of all the chores around the house. Only a week later, he was diagnosed with four blood clots and needed emergency surgery. Two weeks ago, I stayed with them for several days to help out. I drove them around, bought groceries, carried heavy items, cleaned the house, and helped with whatever needed to be done. Not only did it feel good to be able to help the people I love, it was good for me as well. Spending time with them gave me much-needed perspective. It reminded me of how strong and healthy I am right now, and how difficult it is for me to accept that. Lately, my view of myself has become too narrow, but these last few weeks I have felt so young and agile.
It’s a different kind of melancholy to watch the people you love grow old, knowing that you won’t have them forever. When we visited my grandfather at the hospital and I saw him lying there in a hospital bed, an emotional wave washed over me. He was so happy to see us. The first thing he said was that this was nothing compared to what I was going through after losing my job. It made me both happy and relieved to hear him say that, because it’s such a typical thing for my grandfather to say. I had lost my job and he had once again cheated death. Still, he cared more about my situation than his own. Although I was trying to convey through both my tone and body language, how ridiculous he was to focus on me in a moment like this, it still made me relieved to see him being himself. It felt like I was so close to losing him. He was joking with the nurse, who happened to be of Polish background, so he started telling her about the time he worked in Katowice. (My grandfather has worked all over the world). I could write a book about all the stories my grandfather has told me. There is a bestselling Swedish novel about a centenarian whose extraordinary life carries him through some of the most remarkable events of the twentieth century. When I read it, I found myself thinking of my grandfather. That could definitely be my grandfather at a nursing home one day. I love to ask him about his life. He tells me stories about the time he built a luxury hotel in Baghdad while a war was raging outside. Or when he was working in Mozambique during the civil war. When I ask whether he was afraid, he always says he wasn’t. Yet just a week after he left for another assignment, his former colleague was ambushed and killed. Or that time when he arrived in the London underground shortly after a terrorist attack. The most important thing in the world to my grandpa is family. He has imparted so much wisdom and morals in me. He always says:
“It doesn’t matter who pays, as long as everyone has food on the table.”
I love elderly people; I care deeply for them. I see them and their struggles. When I worked in the liquor store while I was studying, many of our customers were elderly people. I always tried to do what I could for them if they needed help. I would pack their bags, carry the bags out to their car, or do anything that could ease the burden that comes with aging. They also have so much wisdom to share and interesting stories. There is just so much to learn from them. I always take the time to listen. I think we are, in general, terribly bad at seeing and hearing them. Over the years, I have become increasingly concerned about how we treat elderly people in society. This concern has only grown stronger recently as debates about elderly care have become more prominent in Sweden. Later this year, Sweden will hold an election, and one of the most important political issues is definitely elderly care. Over the past few years, we have repeatedly heard disturbing stories in the news about the elderly care system. We have heard stories of elderly women being raped by their caretakers in their own homes. We have also heard stories of elderly people subjected to serious misconduct and failings within the elderly care system. It’s not just sexual assaults; it’s also physical violence and abuse. Imagine inviting a caretaker into your home, believing that this person is there to help and care for you, only to become the victim of inhumane treatment. It is difficult to comprehend that there are people walking among us in society, capable of committing such heinous crimes. These incidents have occurred too many times to be dismissed as isolated cases. It has turned into a recurring problem. It is particularly concerning since elderly people have limited means of protecting themselves and rely fully on the staff for their safety and care. Their vulnerability extends beyond the elderly care system; they are also particularly vulnerable to financial abuse. Just the other week, I watched a video on the news about an elderly woman who was afraid to answer the door whenever her husband was away. Before opening it, she would deliberately call out to him to create the impression that she wasn’t alone in the house. A society has failed profoundly when it can’t protect its elderly people. The well-being of a society is measured in how well its elderly people and children are cared for – those who need society’s support the most.
Last week, I spent the entire weekend in the company of elderly people. Ironically, however, the weekend began in the company of toddlers. I was babysitting my two nephews, aged five and two. Aging is so fascinating. Just a few years ago, I cradled the five-year-old in my arms until he fell asleep, and now he is too heavy for me to carry him for longer periods of time. He is so charming and funny. Passionate just like his aunt. One second, he is scolding me for not knowing how to disassemble a power drill, and the next second he is complimenting me about what I am wearing. Sometimes he says things that make me question his true age. But then he gets a tantrum which ends the wondering. It’s crazy to think that this little clump of meat has grown into an individual with so much personality. He listens to me when I tell him things, but the two-year-old couldn’t care less what I tell him. He is a wild one. I was chasing him around the room trying to get him out of his pyjamas, but he refused and these toddlers are much faster than you think they are. He was mocking me. While I was trying to get his little brother dressed, the five-year-old had already dressed himself and was standing outside the room watching me impatiently. He told me he wanted to play outside. I looked at him with despair in my eyes and I told him, “If you want to play outside, you first have to help me get your little brother out of his pyjamas and in other clothes”. It was quite an endearing and amusing sight to behold: watching him try to outwit his two-year-old little brother. In the end, we managed to put our heads together and outwit him, got him out of his pyjamas and in clothes. Afterwards I felt like I deserved an award. I truly have the utmost admiration for single parents…
In the afternoon, I drove for four hours to another city with my grandparents. We went there to celebrate a relative who was graduating from high school, and we were staying with extended family. We arrived late in the evening, but our relatives had ice cream and strawberries prepared for us. I had never visited their place before, and the second I entered the house I was blown away by the beauty. It hit me the second the door opened. They live in a small mansion that’s been in the family since the eighteenth century. I spent the whole evening admiring all the beautiful furniture, artifacts, souvenirs, porcelain, art, and antiques.
What inspired me so much to write about this weekend was not just the beautiful mansion, it was also the beautiful couple living in it. The second I crossed the doorstep; it was like stepping right into a love story. It was a home whose walls whispered of lasting love. What caught my attention was how she cared for him. In every touch, every gaze, every word. It was so beautiful to witness that it brought tears to my eyes. He had taken a fall just the previous week and suffered a fracture in his pelvis. He couldn’t make it up the stairs to the bedroom, so she had arranged for him to sleep on the bottom floor. During our visit, I observed how she kept track of his medicine, how she prepared his sandwiches, pushed him around the house in the wheelchair, how gently she caressed him, how she was always around when he needed her.
There was only one guest room in the mansion, and my grandparents were using it. I had to sleep on an inflatable air mattress, however, I did get my own room though with so many beautiful things in it. It looked as though it had been taken straight from a Bridgerton scene. There were two sofas with a neo-classical late eighteenth-century design, this is definitely not my area of expertise, though, so don’t take my word for it. In the middle of the night, I woke up and was practically lying on the floor. All the air had gone out of the mattress. I was lying there pondering how to solve the situation. It was going to be a long day filled with celebration, I felt like I really needed a good night’s sleep. I was looking at the elegant antique sofa next to me, thinking that it’s too precious to sleep on, but if this isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is. I slept surprisingly well on the sofa for the few hours that remained before breakfast.
Before I had laid down to sleep, I had walked around the salon and admired all the things in it. I came across a wedding photo, and after breakfast, I asked her whether they were the couple in the photograph. She told me they were and that they had been married for 55 years now. They had met at a friend’s wedding and she had been the maid of honor. They were intentionally seated next to each other. She told me that something clicked between them, and ever since it’s been them. That is exactly how I imagine meeting the love of your life must feel. When it’s right, you just know. They’ve created a home filled with memories of a lifetime spent together. A home two souls have created together. Two souls that have chosen each other every day for a lifetime. A home where you’re safe to be yourself in your most authentic form. You never have to be afraid to be misunderstood, misinterpreted, used, abused, or uncared for. There is something beautiful about knowing that no matter what happens, you’ll always have someone by your side. Someone you can count on. It’s been truly amazing to be part of their story. When she made a promise 55 years ago to love him forever, she truly meant it. Maybe this is one of the most beautiful things a human can create. A home filled with love, with walls revealing how its residents have been loved at every age, in every condition, and in every moment.
The graduation day couldn’t have been better. Although it got off to a somewhat disastrous start for me. I had only brought one dress to wear and one of the straps on my dress broke. I had also only brought one blazer, and when I was going to put on some perfume, I managed to fumble with the bottle and spill on my blazer. This is not unusual; I am terribly clumsy. Just the other day I accidentally dropped my phone on the keyboard of my laptop so now my laptop is missing the number-one key. It was wonderful to be part of the graduates’ happiness and joy. Before I fell asleep in the evening I was thinking back on my own graduation day. I remember it so vividly. I was drunk already at breakfast. The whole day was just pure euphoria. I was also out all night. There was a guy in my class who lived nearby and had arranged a ride home for us early in the morning. I thought it would be rude of me not to invite him in for some dessert when we stopped outside of my house. He accepted the invitation rather enthusiastically. However, the second I pulled the cake out of the fridge, he walked out the door looking terribly disappointed. I didn’t mind; more cake for me. I had been cutting carbs out for a month and the only thing I had been longing for all day and all night was to come home and eat some goddamn cake. He really did miss out on some great cake though.
An antique sofa might be very pretty to look at, but not so great to sleep on. Two nights in a row was one night too much for my back. I woke up at dawn and struggled with falling back to sleep. I decided to walk around a bit in the room, put on some music in my air pods, and open the window to get some fresh air. Then I made a new attempt to fall back to sleep. I was lying there on the elegant ancient sofa, in a mansion permeated by love, listening to ”EXES” by Grey, thinking that the best thing about sleeping poorly and waking up at dawn, is that you get to catch a stunning sunrise.
When we drove back home later that day, we stopped to eat some lunch on the road. I was freezing terribly but, stupid as I am, I had packed my blazer at the very bottom of the suitcase. My grandpa could tell that I was freezing and gave me his jacket. It was so sweet of him, I looked at him and thought to myself:
“How unbelievably blessed I am to have people in my life offering me jackets when I am cold.”
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