August 2008
Founder Mike McGarvin and I are polar opposites in personality and skills. This has made for some big misunderstandings and arguments over the years. However, we do share a few similarities: we're both stubborn, of Irish descent, and, strangely enough, we're the same age.
Mike and I turned sixty-five this year, and we're still in shock. We both agree that we don't feel this old mentally, although our eyesight, hearing and aches and pains tell us differently.
I remember how we mutually discovered that at the magical age of fifty, more frequent visits to doctors were necessary. This process has steadily accelerated over the last fifteen years, and now we have plenty of doctor and hospital stories to swap.
We've also shared a sort of ritual for sixty-five-year-olds: we both went to visit the Social Security Office this year. We have to get our ducks in a row now that we are officially old. Although neither of us has plans for retiring in the near future, it's sobering to realize that we are now of certified retirement age.
Mike and I are fortunate. We both have jobs, families, friends and health insurance to ease this tough transition into the golden years. That's an interesting phrase, isn't it? For most people, there's little about aging that's golden. It usually means declining vitality, increasing physical pain, and coming to grips with mortality; all in all, a fairly depressing agenda.
Aging must be especially depressing for poor and homeless people. Most of us, as we grow older, look back on our lives and assess our accomplishments. An elderly homeless person can only look back and say, So here's where all my effort got me-a place in the meal line at Poverello House.
The ailments that Mike and I now have are a combination of sometimes not taking the best care of ourselves, and the inevitable wearing-out of the body. We're kind of like cars with about 200,000 miles on their odometers, still chugging along, but increasingly in need of replacement parts. In comparison to us, however, an elderly homeless person's health is usually terribly compromised by street conditions, the effects of alcohol and drug abuse, or even the long-term, disabling side effects of prescription drug usage. Medications for mental illness, in particular, which many of our clients have to take, can be devastating to a person's health after many years.
Additionally, seniors on the streets are often victims of crime. Younger, unscrupulous thugs see them as easy money. For example, Gilbert, an old alcoholic who was both charming and harmless, came in to Poverello House one day with a stab wound to his stomach. He'd been rolled and stabbed for the meager leftovers of his Social Security check. The stabbing was just a sadistic afterthought; Gilbert didn't put up any resistance. Any elderly person on the streets has to constantly fear similar, or worse, treatment.
In more traditional societies, the contributions of the old are valued, and their experience is viewed as an asset. The elderly in such places are assured a place of honor, and usually have extended families that take care of them. Our fast-paced, youth-obsessed culture tends to see seniors as more of a nuisance than an asset, and people often view the homeless similarly. So, combined with physical deterioration and fear, a homeless senior faces a deep sense of uselessness and loneliness. So much for the golden years.
We all take things for granted, but working here, I've become more aware of my blessings. I'm grateful that as I age, I have resources to help me adjust and cope. I'm also grateful that Poverello is here as a resource and a sanctuary for those elderly who live their final years in poverty. Without homes or loved ones to watch over them, they really have nowhere else to go.
Jim Connell, Executive Director
info@poverellohouse.org