With his eyes closed and head slumped forward, Jimmy seemed to
be asleep as he sat in his wheelchair in the common room of his New Westminster
long-term care home.
The three dozen or so other seniors in the room appeared to
be in exactly the same state—a melancholy tableau amid the Christmas decorations
and the bustling, cheery staff.
As I bent down and greeted my old friend, he
immediately perked up and, his eyes remaining closed, smiled and whispered
hello. I noticed that a part of his breakfast remained on his face—porridge, I
thought.
I found a tissue and wiped his face, recalling that I had done much the
same for my children and grandchildren when they were infants.
I had started
visiting Jimmy about six months earlier while he was in hospital being treated
for a chronic heart condition.
His prospects for recovery didn’t look good.
At
age 87, Jimmy was fading fast, and the once-star soccer player, globe-trotting
coach, dynamic salesman, and founding member of our parish’s Knights of Columbus
chapter was now but a shadow of his former robust self.
His mind had started
fading as well, and with that decline he experienced sadness and troubling
thoughts about his limited future. In response to a request from his wife (who,
herself, was in and out of hospital at the time), I had made it my mission to
help dispel his growing gloom by visiting him.
And so, on this December morning,
I leaned in and started singing one of his favourite songs for him. His smile
broadened and he moved his lips in an attempt to sing along.
Today, increasing
numbers of seniors find themselves in situations like Jimmy’s, but without
family or friends to accompany them through their final days.
A report by
Canada’s National Institute of Ageing, released in December 2023, found that 41
per cent of Canadians aged 50 years and older are at risk of social isolation
and up to 58 per cent have experienced loneliness.
News coverage of the report
focused on how loneliness can adversely affect both mental and physical health.
But there’s an even graver, deadlier impact: increased likelihood of desiring to
access Canada’s permissive euthanasia regime.
Indeed, Alex Schadenberg, executive director of the Euthanasia Prevention Coalition, says most people who
request Medical Assistance in Dying do so not because they are in excruciating
pain but for emotional and psychological reasons that are being fuelled by a
“culture of loneliness.”
This is why he believes that, after having lost the
legal and political battles to prevent the legalization of MAiD, Catholics and
other anti-euthanasia advocates should turn to “caring and compassion” to
prevent the growing tide of requests for MAiD.
“We need to focus on visiting and
being with others and being a caring part of this culture,” Schadenberg said in
a presentation to Catholics in Langley two years ago.
“There is nothing easy
about this situation, but the answer to this evil of killing is to love each
other.”
That’s certainly what our parish’s Blooms into Rooms initiative has been
attempting to do for 30 years. Now part of Life Compass’s ministry, Blooms into
Rooms sees dozens of volunteers from 10 parishes and schools visiting hundreds
of seniors on Holy Saturday, giving them a flowering plant, a homemade greeting
card, and some precious company.
Last Easter, we visited 1,500 seniors at care
homes, long-term care facilities, group residences, and hospices. We have no way
of knowing for sure how many lives we’ve touched or, perhaps, even saved from
premature death. But we can certainly count the smiles, and they now number in
the tens of thousands.
My last visit with Jimmy was on Dec. 21. On leaving, I
gave him a hug and wished him a Merry Christmas. He replied with a faint smile
and a whispered “goodbye.”
Jimmy passed away in his sleep during the early hours
of Jan. 1. Our parish celebrated his funeral Mass on Jan. 9.
His widow, son, daughter-in-law, and their three grown children all thanked me for the time I
spent with Jimmy.
They told me that my visits and singing always cheered him up.
I shared with them his joy when I sang Danny Boy because his grandfather used to
sing it to him while they snuck off on pub crawls every Sunday—his increasingly
tipsy grandfather having a pint of Guiness at each stop and young Jimmy a glass
of lemonade.
The family hadn’t heard that story and said they would treasure it.
What’s clear to me now is that, as much as I may have given Jimmy during his
final days, I received at least as much in return.
All the more reason for us to
reach out to those who need it most, including the thousands of Canadians who
end their lives every year for lack of companionship. ok
