Left Behind

It wasn’t that long ago that we would sit at home by the telephone to wait for a call [pause to think “pathetic loser” if you must, then permit me to continue]. The afternoon’s highlight would be the visit from the postman, who might be carrying a letter from a loved one. Disappointment and anxiety were our lot when the phone didn’t ring or the letter didn’t come.

Those days look as quaint as a Norman Rockwell painting now that time and location are no barrier to getting in touch. We are reachable 24/7, and, with multiple phone numbers and e-mail as well as physical addresses, the problem is often too much communication, not too little.

Left behind in this wide wired-and-wireless world are many retirement home residents, who lived in the more sedate age depicted by the Saturday Evening Post and Life. Few of them own computers and cellphones, and human contact is limited to each other and the home’s employees.

A small group of us intermittently make the rounds of the fourteen elder-care home in Foster City. There’s no proselytizing (we are Episcopalians), just conversation and smiles. Last Sunday one of the kids—the presence of youth seems to brighten the residents’ day—brought along a CD of old favorites. We warbled Over the Rainbow and I’ve Been Working on the Railroad. (Although there was a hiccup with On Top of Old Smokey—see post below).

One gentleman, a long-time resident who looks forward to our visits, gave the church a small donation. We thanked him and some of our new old friends and promised to return by Christmas. © 2007 Stephen Yuen