For China’s old, aging is a lonely road

A pensioner who put self up for adoption spotlights the plight

couple of times a week, venting to the staff. He stopped calling in early March, Xu said.

Han also kept in touch with his law-student friend, Jiang Jing. He told Jiang there was another young person, a military man named Cui, who was in regular contact and interested in adopting him.

Jiang last chatted with Han on March 13. On March 14, she missed a call from him. The next time she called, in early April, an unfamiliar voice picked up: his son, she later learned. He said his father died March 17.

In Tianjin, Han’s death went unnoticed. Two weeks after he died, the neighborhood committee that is supposed to keep an eye on residents was surprised by news of his death.

Han’s son, Han Chang, flew in from Canada to handle his affairs. He was angry at his father for posting an adoption notice and angry at reporters for covering it.

The younger Han said his father had been lying, that the old man had three sons, not two, and that they took good care of him. He refused to provide the names or numbers of his siblings or anyone else who could confirm his account.

His father had not been lonely, he insisted, just old. “This could happen anywhere,” he said.

He did not want to discuss his father’s life, but confirmed the basic details of his death: When Han fell ill on March 17, he called an unknown number in his phone. The son would not say who — it could have been the military man, another prospective adopter, or someone else.

Han’s greatest fear was that he would die in his bed, that someone would find his bones. But when his time came, he had someone to call. He made it to the hospital.

When his heart gave out, he was not alone.