Find the real strength — in our elders
Hear the voices of those who have earned the wisdom,
I CAN remember the day I realised COVID-19 was in Tasmania. It was a warm afternoon in early March. I sat on the edge of my grandparent’s chesterfield, sipping a cup of instant coffee. We talked about cruise ships and border closures, while sun shone through the curtains.
It all still felt a bit fanciful and far-off, inapplicable to our own lives.
A family friend dropped by, refusing a tea as she sat down. She seemed agitated as she told us wide-eyed about the projected rates of infection. She handed two face masks to my grandfather, instructing him to wear one while at the supermarket or in Bunnings. She showed Nanny how to put one on, tying up the strings behind her white hair.
I realised in that moment, seeing my grandmother in her recliner chair, with a surgical mask covering her small face.
They spent the first couple of months in their unit, ordering groceries online and only leaving the house to check the mail or take the bins out. If we visited, we sat on opposite sides of the room. We said goodbye with a wave, rather than a hug or a kiss.
I thought this was particularly hard for my grandmother, who became blind in her old age. I felt worried for them and tried to visit regularly.
However, as the pandemic progressed, I found solace in my grandparents’ company. They were a welcome relief from the ever-present panic of the outside world. They were the most at risk, yet the most unfazed. They understood their vulnerability but they were stoic. They used humour, like much of my family does, to put their situation into perspective. They knew this too would pass.
Nearly 600 people over the age of 70 have died of COVID19 in Australia. The majority of deaths have been in this age group. It has spread through aged care homes with disastrous effect. Yet how often do we hear the voice of an elderly person? We often hear from family who speak on their behalf. But in failing to understand perspectives of the victims, we seem to have assigned a certain identity to them. We have equated victim with helpless and scared, rather than recognising their strength.
A University of Tasmania study of COVID-19 impacts, The Tasmania Project, found in June that the majority of participants over 65 felt adapted to a new way of living. They understood how to protect themselves from COVID-19 and respond to emergency situations as much as the 25-64 age group.
They felt happier and less distressed in isolation than their younger counterparts and were more likely to reach out to others via telephone or online. The report found that, overall, this age group showed the most emotional resilience during lockdown.
I feel we need to challenge the narrative. Older people are the most vulnerable. However, there is a strength in their wisdom of experience which we should value and give voice to.
In April, the Mercury published an article about Gwendoline, a 91-year-old Moonah resident. Gwendoline went into isolation in 1938 during a polio outbreak. She was housebound with her single mother and three other children. They had a radio and a few toys.
As a young person, I understand the overwhelming sense of novelty and uncertainty many of us are consumed by. I am grateful that mental health is less taboo, so we can talk more openly about these things than our grandparents could. But for that reason we need to create space for our grandparents to talk — about their worries, their feelings, their opinions.
The advice of Gwendoline has stuck with me these past few months. “You’ve got to try and help other people as much as you can. Don’t think of yourself all the time.”
Let us all remember — this too will pass.