I first posted this nearly two years ago, and then re-posted about a year later. I was reminded of it again recently by a Facebook article that so precisely mirrored my own thoughts, I might have written it myself.

Reading that other article, and seeing that I am clearly not alone in my perceptions, I feel it might be worth presenting my thoughts once more — particularly during this holiday season — for those with parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, or older friends who might be experiencing the lonely feeling of invisibility that often comes with old age.

So here it is, for the third time:

*. *. *

4/22/24: THE INEVITABILITY OF INVISIBILITY: ARE YOU READY FOR IT?

I was bingeing the other day — not on chocolates, but on reruns of my favorite British TV series, Midsomer Murders — when I saw again the episode wherein Tom Barnaby’s aunt is in short-term post-surgical rehab at a senior nursing home where several of the regular residents have died under mysterious circumstances. Well, Tom Barnaby being the local DCI (Detective Chief Inspector), naturally there had to be deaths to investigate.

But it was the living characters that interested me, and the depiction of the sad emptiness of their daily lives, even though it was quite a lovely nursing home. And what one still-vibrant gentleman resident said to a young visitor struck me as particularly poignant. I don’t recall his words verbatim, but in essence he said that when you’re young, you have presence: you’re tall or short, handsome or ugly, perhaps smart, funny, sexy, etc. You’re interesting. But when you’re old, you become extraneous. You’re excluded from everything; you are no longer relevant. People look right past you as though you’re not even there. For all intents and purposes, you are invisible . . . or so said the elderly gentleman.

And it occurred to me — from my own experience and observations — that he was right. Absolutely, completely, tragically right. Oh, not in the eyes of my own generation of friends . . . the few who are left alive. (I seem to be the one designated to survive all the others.) But to the younger ones, the people who have inherited the responsibility of running the world that my generation created (for which, please forgive us, by the way). At social events, or dining out with a group — if they’re mostly younger people, they’re so engaged with one another, they forget you’re there. They’re not being intentionally disrespectful; it’s just that you’ve become irrelevant.

I wonder: Is this a typically American thing? Or is it true in other countries as well? I know there are societies that revere their elders — Asian nations, for example. Why do we think we only need to make sure the old folks are “taken care of”? Don’t they realize we miss our social lives? Or that painting pottery in some senior center isn’t enough to satisfy our intellectual needs? Or even that we still have intellectual needs?

Now, I do know that I’m not actually some amorphous bit of ectoplasm floating in the air; I have a body (tired as it may be), and substance. People don’t bump into me in the market; I’ve never been run over on the street or in a parking lot. I am visible, in the corporeal sense. It’s just that younger people don’t seem to care.

But I have things to say. I have experience. I’ve had a long, interesting life. I keep up with the world news, politics, show biz gossip. I know who Volodymyr Zelensky, and Elon Musk, and Taylor Swift are. I have opinions, viewpoints based on all those years of experience. I even have a sense of humor. I have a blog, for Heaven’s sake!

And the same is true of most of my contemporaries . . . the ones who haven’t gone around the bend, at any rate. I can understand if the 20-somethings, who think they possess all the wisdom of the world (and are they in for some surprises!), believe we seniors have become obsolete. But those of you in your 50s, 60s . . . even your 30s and 40s . . . well, you should know better.

And one day you will.

Because your day is coming, kids . . . sooner than you think. I’m glad I won’t be around to see your reactions when you realize that you, too, have faded from sight.

Because by then it will be too late to make amends.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
12/1/25