Tears and more Tears

As part of my Oakmont Forum series in the Kenwood Press, I wrote these words 20 years ago. They retain their validity to these days. Especially in view of Oakmont’s plan for the Renewal of our Downtown.

While the CAC only is slated for Rehabilitation, it will have to be paid for with our moneys.

The fee increases over the past 2 decades have been significant. Further increases will seriously impact our fellow residents who bought into Oakmont for the very reason enunciated by its founder, namely, “For people of all walks of life.”

In this first column dated August 13, 2004 I mentioned that regardless of all the activities and the myriad of events taking place at Oakmont, there existed a degree of loneliness and alienation for many of its inhabitants. Our village, like any adult community, represents a significant percentage of people whose daily life does not feature a kaleidoscope  of scheduled parties and club meetings, but, rather encompasses an unceasing effort to find happiness, solace and purpose in a life transformed and transforming by age, illness and losses.

Two examples of this condition come to mind. While waiting in a parking lot, I began talking to a lady who, with some encouragement, confided in me about her existence. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she recounted that not only had she lost an adult child, but most recently her husband. She continued that after their son’s untimely death, the light went out of her husband’s eyes, and now that he had passed away, the sun, too rarely shone for her. I asked her how she coped, and she answered with heart wrenching simplicity: “Tears and more tears every day.”

The second illustration involves a chipper gentleman, who seemingly enjoyed every minute of his life because he was busy during every second of it. Only after some chatting did he reveal the energy behind this non-stop schedule. He was outrunning loneliness and boredom.

Coincidence willed it that within a short period, I had encountered two peoplewho were dealing with their lives in diametrically opposed fashion. The greatest number of our residents finds itself somewhere in between those two poles. They have made a relatively smooth transition into retirement and they enjoy good health. Most importantly, they are still blessed with the company of their spouse. The children visit regularly, and they continue with some of the occupations that filled their former life….

But, down the street curtains remain drawn, and our neighbor has  not been seen out and about in days or even weeks. Have we noticed anything? Perhaps, and perhaps not. People everywhere tend to mind their own business and understandably so. Reminded that we are our brother’s keeper, we take comfort in the knowledge that there exist, in necessitous cases, programs like “Meals on Wheels”, and volunteers who take our neighbors to shops and doctors’ offices.

Moreover, the sufferers behind the shutters do not advertise their pain and their loneliness. The vestiges of their energy go into keeping intact their dignity and privacy. And so they endure in silence, and the rest of us pass them by in equal silence.

How can we help? Everyone understands that talking and writing of these concerns is easier done than taking action. To bring the delicate subject to the attention of the public via the media and to create a focus, are only helpful first steps. Much more is needed. The courageous lady felt better after she shared her pain and so did  her fellow resident, the humming and bustling gentleman, who was crying on the inside. Might it be possible for those of us who tango away the night at the “Berger” shoot a three under par on the East course; walk away with another double’s win on the tennis courts, or give their considered opinion at the “Current Events” meetings, to spend half an hour or so with the man or the  woman whose door has remained closed for too long, and gently ask some questions. This then, perhaps could be a beginning  truly help dry the tears that flow too often and in solitude.