In the cold autumn breezy years, the old people should be a kind sunset, a shelter forged by mottled memories and heavy experiences, and their old age should be surrounded by warmth and respect. However, in some corners of the world, there are some old people, whose old age is like a kite with a broken string, crumbling in the afterglow of the setting sun, unable to find a place to rest. The following is a description of the seven types of old people who are most desolate in their later years.
The first is those fathers who do not have a pension and whose sons are not angry. Their wrinkles hide the vicissitudes of time, and the calluses in their hands tell of their unyielding labor. They do not want to be beggars of time, they do not want to reach out to their children, so they choose to support the burden of life with trembling hands. There is perseverance in the frost-white hair, but there is indescribable helplessness and bitterness in the eyes. The years are unforgiving, and the tearful thing is that at an age when they should be enjoying leisure, they have carried the cross of a heavy life.
The second type is those souls who die alone. In their later years, they lost their partners, they walked on the edge of life, watched the luck of love pass away, and the rest of their lives could only be accompanied by memories. They sat in a quiet room, fiddling with old photos in their hands, and narrated the warmth of the past in a trembling voice. A trace of longing, a little bit of loneliness, condensed into the background color of life in their later years, even if it is a hundred ghosts walking at night, they cannot shake their memories of the past.
The third type is the elderly who are riddled with family conflicts. Their family is like an unsolvable entanglement, with frequent contradictions and difficult to find harmony. The little things in life become the fuse, and every dispute is like a sharp blade, cutting through the already fragile family relationship. They have become victims of family and prosperity, and behind the smiles is a deep helplessness, and they can only silently bear the heartache and disappointment brought by the family whirlpool.
The fourth type is the elderly who have been bedridden for a long time. The disease is like a ruthless predator, robbing them of their freedom of movement and the right to participate in life. They were trapped in bedding, exhausted by every storm of disease. They crave a healthy body and a walk at dusk as they used to. But the sickbed has become their world, and the silent pain is stretched out in the endless darkness of the night.
The fifth type is the elderly who choose to be treated with relaxation due to poverty and illness. I was sick, but I couldn't get medical advice because of poverty. Faced with extreme choices, they cannot afford expensive treatments, and life seems so insignificant on the scales of money. They chose to face it calmly, weaving their last years with endless courage and tragedy, but no one could understand the pain behind that choice.
The sixth type is the elderly who are neglected by their parents. They once dedicated their best youth to the growth of their children, but when they grew old and needed care, they could not get the warmth of their families and faced the fate of loneliness and abandonment. Their eyes were full of anticipation, but they could only wait for one empty promise after another.
The last type is the elderly who are not angry with the younger generations in the family. They hoped that the younger generation would be able to take the lead, but unexpectedly everything returned to square one. A handful of old age is still gnawing at home. Looking at the ignorance of the younger generations and the absurdity of youth, their hearts are full of regrets, but they are powerless to change anything, so they can only bear this melancholy and helplessness silently.
These old people, writing the last chapter of their lives in their own way, teach us how to understand the tenacity and fragility of life, and how to cherish the beauty of family affection. In the final stages of their lives, they showed the nobility and lowness of life, and I hope we can draw strength from their stories to create a warmer state of old age.