"Softhearted ako pag old people ang pinag-uusapan...."
It seems there's always a part of us that resonates deeply with discussions about the elderly. Here's what I believe:
Perhaps our heightened empathy towards the elderly stems from our recognition that we're all destined to tread that path someday—the journey of aging unless fate intervenes prematurely.
The notion of growing old often looms over us, instigating a fear of traversing that path alone.
We joke, saying things like, "I'll start a family, who else will carry my casket when I pass?" Yet, deep down, we sometimes idealize family creation for precisely this reason.
What stirs our softheartedness when witnessing the mistreatment of the elderly isn't solely empathy; it's also the dread of encountering similar treatment down the line. This, I believe, is the crux of it.
The fear of being shoved aside in old age is daunting.
The dread of solitary birthdays weighs heavily.
The prospect of fading into obscurity is chilling.
The fear of ridicule in old age is unsettling.
The realization that seeking aid may become futile with age is sobering.
The thought of children forgetting us is disheartening.
The apprehension of being disregarded is sobering.
The terror of facing death alone is profound.
We're indeed apprehensive about these and myriad other concerns.
When tears well up witnessing elderly mistreatment, it's as though we're trying on their shoes, and the burden feels overwhelming.
Because it truly is. It's overwhelming.
Yet, all we can offer them is sympathy. It's even more disheartening knowing that countless elderly individuals out there are deprived of even that.
