Hearts Break at All Ages

Last week, Slate had a story that was both heart breaking and angering at the same time. Long story short: Two elderly residents from a nursing home began to fancy each other. So, they did what people who fancy each other do and started having sex. Although official policy frowned on such relationships, almost everyone agree that the lady and gentleman involved were the better, healthier, and happier for it. Everyone, it seems, except the gentleman's son, who vocally objected and, eventually, moved his father to another facility.

Mixed in among the issues related to the ability of older folks suffering from dementia and their ability to consent to sex, there are two bits of info that really stand out.

The first, which is the angering bit, is the behavior of the gentleman's son, who was motivated not so much by a valid concern about his father's heath, but a mixture of "eww, old people fucking!" and concerns about his inheritance:

Bob had repeatedly proposed for all to hear and called Dorothy his wife, but his son called her something else—a "gold digger"—and refused to even discuss her family's offer to sign a prenup.

This is an expectation I've never understood - why do people who might be in position to inherit something someday turn that into a sense of entitlement? Maybe it's because I've never really expected to inherit anything of great value, but it pisses me off when people lay claim to the goods of others. Assume Bob spent lavishly on Dorothy and junior was left without an inheritance - why is that a problem?

The tragic part of the story, however, lies in the effects of the breakup and the effects of a debilitating mental condition:

Finally, Bob's family decided to move him and insisted that neither he nor Dorothy be told in advance. No one in either family was there the morning Bob's nurse hustled him out the door. Later, the manager called his son and asked if there was any way Dorothy might come and visit just briefly, to say goodbye.

* * *

After that, Dorothy stopped eating. She lost 21 pounds, was treated for depression, and was hospitalized for dehydration. When Bob was finally moved out of the facility in January, she sat in the window for weeks waiting for him. She doesn't do that anymore, though: 'Her Alzheimer's is protecting her at this point,' says her doctor, who thinks the loss might have killed her if its memory hadn't faded so mercifully fast.

I think the tragedy of that speaks for itself.