David Weir
I’m not sure that I ever fully appreciated it at the time — in fact, I’m quite sure I didn’t — but during the years that one of my obligations was to drop my kids off at school it actually was a privilege.
Like all adults trying to balance responsibilities, I probably complained about it on occasion, and it certainly could be stressful when we were running late.
But what I mean by calling it a privilege is that even at the time I knew, deep down, that I was somehow playing an essential role in our societal ecosystem. And believing that your role matters is not always the easiest thing to achieve in our culture, especially as you age.
Years later, when those parental obligations are done and the kids are grown, you become conscious that you are no longer quite so essential — that, in fact, you’re now basically inessential. Retiring from work accentuates that awareness, as your professional responsibilities, once deemed weighty and significant, melt away as well.
At that point you may start pondering just how little you did mattered in the larger scheme of things.
It’s painfully obvious that our society doesn’t know what to do about its aging population. Watching what happened to Joe Biden as he was cast aside was a very public reminder of that. But it is also instructive what has happened since.
The person most likely to have benefitted from throwing Biden under her bus has steadfastly refused to do so. Instead, Kamala Harris has defended Biden and his legacy, even as she pays a steep political price for her loyalty.
Given the perfect chance Tuesday to name one of Biden’s policies she disagreed with, Harris demurred, “There is not a thing that comes to mind.”
That was hardly a politically expedient thing to say as Republicans try to weaponize her loyalty to a President with low approval ratings. But it is precisely what a person of principle might do, regardless of the consequences.
It also had the effect of honoring an elder, though we’re not accustomed to think of it that way. Beyond the politics of this, the larger context here reaches into the existential human dilemma involved with aging and caring — including the universal experience of feeling essential, then inessential, and how to bring all of that back into balance.
Something else Harris said on Tuesday may prove even more consequential in this regard.
Outlining her plan to expand Medicare to cover home health care for the aged, Harris noted: "There are so many people in our country who are right in the middle. They're taking care of their kids and they're taking care of their aging parents, and it's just almost impossible to do it all, especially if they work." And then — and this is key — she added, “(Seniors) want to stay in their home. They don't want to go somewhere else, plus for the family to send them to a residential care facility, to hire somebody, is so expensive.”
It was not only what she said; it was the way she said “they don’t want to go somewhere else.” As I watched her speak, I thought to myself, ‘here is someone who actually gets it, she understands.’ |
Early in 2020, just as the pandemic was arriving and I was recovering from a stroke, I moved into an assisted care facility. At the time it seemed like the only option left for me. In fact, the last place on earth I needed to be was with a bunch of other old people walled off from society, waiting to die. Nothing against the staff members in there, most of whom were terrific, or the residents, but every minute I spent in that place my hope was evaporating and spirit was being crushed.
In the end I was one of the lucky ones. My family rescued me and that’s why I can tell this story today.
Ii’s my belief that Kamala Harris has the empathy and the vision to see not only what matters to people like those of us now at that critical stage of caring for and being cared for at this vulnerable point in our lives. She also understands what the government can and should try to do about making things easier on all of us, including our caretakers.
What’s really brilliant about Harris’s plan is it would help families of all stripes and definitions keep their loved ones out of institutions, and in the process give many of us a second shot at again doing those little things that matter even if we didn’t realize that when we were young.
And I commend her for that, while noting that Donald Trump isn’t capable of even comprehending what I’m talking about here.
When I woke up yesterday morning, it was obvious that our long, intense heat wave had finally broken. Fresh cool air swept in from the ocean and through my open windows. I stretched, pulled on my clothes and drank a cup of coffee.
A few minutes after 8 a.m. I grabbed the car keys. My 10-year-old granddaughter brushed her hair and hoisted her backpack.
“I’m ready, Grandpa.”
Then I drove her to school. And it was my distinct privilege to do that.
David Weir is a journalist who has worked and published at Rolling Stone, Salon, Wired.com, The New York Times, The Nation, Mother Jones, New York, New Times, SunDance, and many other publications and sites. He is a co-founder of the Center for Investigative Reporting and the author of four books. His writing can be found on Substack.