A short while ago, a senior citizen who lives alone — and likes it that way – expressed her views on a version of social networking applicable to her.
“If you are interested in my welfare,” she said, “you should know what is happening in my life. You should know who my friends are and where I go. You should have their phone numbers and addresses. You should be in touch with my circle of friends and their families on a regular basis until the web of friendship becomes all-encompassing. Remind people of my situation as a senior living alone. That will keep them alert and ever ready to help me in time of need.”
Her words sounded reasonable enough, given that she was well into her 80s and managing on her own. But that “regular basis” she had stressed was actually the catch word.
How does one reach out to this long list of friends, I wondered. With their phone numbers neatly catalogued, I have the means to carry this wonderful suggestion forward, but at what cost do I sustain it?
Keeping in touch with my own ever-expanding family has become almost impossible. It is tough to remember the new surnames that have been acquired up and down generations. Birthdays and anniversaries in the immediate family, with all the newcomers, would probably cover every day of the year. I have almost given up greeting nieces and nephews and cousins on their big days because there are just too many of them!
And what about my precious friends, acquired through school and college and years of shared experiences in adulthood? Those friends have their ever-expanding families that I have grown to love too. Again, it’s near impossible to keep track despite caring fiercely for them.
To exchange an annual greeting with everyone is a huge undertaking and that’s why it is understandable that the world resorts to group SMS and group email or posts what they have to say on a social networking site. It definitely makes me feel a bit like the brave little tailor of the folk tale who got ‘seven in one swipe’! One click and everyone gets that update ...
But many senior citizens, those who had retired before the information technology wave swept over us like a global tsunami, are not contactable by such means. Emails are out of the question because they have no computers. Some of them have cell phones and actually remember to carry them around and keep them charged, but they don’t look at SMSes and there’s no way that could be a mode of communication. They believe in a one-to-one phone call or better still, a letter, or a visit, something most of us find impossible to keep up with even when we are in the same town with our dear friends.
When it is utopian to imagine that we can keep in regular touch with our inner circle of loved ones, how does one travel through the spiral and reach out on a ‘regular basis’ to those who are farther and farther away, connected by the thin threads of our links with another generation? Isn’t it likely that, despite the best of intentions, we would wind up forgetting our near and dear ones while trying to ramp up our mental data bank that includes that web of second-hand connections?
At a time when we are trying to lower our expectations of ourselves and are learning to satisfy ourselves with one job well done in a day, how do we take on this mammoth challenge?
Irrespective of the justification for their expectations, do the true-blue seniors have any idea of the enormity of what they ask for when they want us to be in the thick of their circles of friends?
Cheryl Raso is a journalist based in India.
