A Tribute to Our Elders

By Nuzhat Jafri

April 24, 2020

As the news of outbreaks of COVID-19 in large numbers in long-term care facilities reaches our news feeds and television screens, we are experiencing a myriad of emotions.  Not the least of which are sadness and grief at losing the most precious people in our lives.

Two years ago around this time of the year when spring was making its presence known through a burst of crocuses and daffodils, I began to keep my father company at the side of his hospital bed in Scarborough.  Our father was admitted to the hospital and moved to palliative care because my siblings and I could no longer take care of him at home.  He was in the 95th year of his life.  In the hospital room, there were three other elderly patients.  One of them had regular visits from family members but the other two had no visitors, except for the hospital staff.  Even when visitors could come some elders had none.

My father had Alzheimer’s and engaging with him required patience and perseverance.  Days and weeks passed.  He began to withdraw from eating and drinking and slept most of the time.  On my laptop I played verses from the Qur’an, some of his nostalgic music, Urdu poetry recited by his favourite narrators, and occasionally an old Bollywood historical movie.  He would listen through earphones and drift in and out of sleep.  Sometimes I would share the sound with the others in the room with their permission.  Family members visited my father regularly and gave me tips on how to feed him, imploring me to help him eat his pureed food.  Most of the time he did not recognize any of the visitors, including his children and grandchildren.  There was a poignant moment I remember distinctly when he responded to a greeting from my granddaughter.  With each passing day he ate less and less and slept more and more.  That was the beginning of my father’s end in this life.

Before his admittance to the hospital for the last time in his life, we had struggled to find care for him at home. Services provided through the local Community Care Access Centre were sporadic, with constantly changing caregivers, inconsistent care practices and absences without notice.  Our family had considered alternatives such as long-term care facilities but had always opted for care at home.  We had visited several facilities but were always discouraged by the atmosphere of desolation and hopelessness in these facilities.  Five years earlier, we had gone through this with our mother.  At that time, it was my father who lovingly took care of my mother at home with the help of some reliable personal support workers.  In each or our parents’ cases, care at home prevailed because care in those facilities looked precarious.  We were fortunate to be with our parents towards the end or their lives.  They were indeed the most precious people in our lives and the struggles for their care were no match for what they had given us in love and sacrifice.

Today in the wake of an invisible killer virus, thousands of seniors are dying alone in long-term care facilities. They are deprived of their loved ones by their side and their caregivers themselves are in peril because of COVID-19.  Surely our elders deserve better than this.  They have given so much to their children, grandchildren and to this country – can we please not let them die so mercilessly alone, without dignity.  Their lives are as precious, if not more, as all others that are suffering with this disease.

Let’s urge our governments to accelerate provision of personal protective equipment, better pay for caregivers and healthcare commensurate with the best that our elders deserve.  We owe them our lives.
 

Nuzhat Jafari

Executive Director
Canadian Council of Muslim Women (CCMW)