‘I visit and his face lights up’: caring for West Yorkshire’s ageing population – photo essay

2 weeks ago 12

In the years I have worked for Age UK, I’ve found there is always more to do, always someone else to help, and even with double the staff we could only scratch the surface.

That said, it is an honour to share my days with so many lovely people who have great stories to tell, who have lived such varied lives. To me this is more than a job, it’s a vocation – and I plan to continue to do so as long as I am able.

Community Fund projects like ours are paid for by the national lottery. Our aim is to reduce loneliness and isolation by engaging with hard to reach people who might otherwise not be aware of the help and support we have to offer.

Covid really made us look deeper as a charity into the way we connect with our clients. From shopping to supporting with general information about the pandemic, we were there at the end of the phone – our volunteers really stepped up.

We soon realised that the level of fear and loss was overwhelming for some, and what they really needed was to talk it out. Some lost life partners in such circumstances where they were unable to meet family or friends, which meant they were unable to process the grief. Bereavement services were overwhelmed, leaving people to wait for months for someone to talk to. Out of this situation, we developed a service to provide low-level mental health and welfare support.

As soon as it was safe to do so, our Time for Teas programme was rolled out across the district meaning for the first time since lockdown we could offer people the opportunity to meet up in a socially distanced way. The relief among our clients was palpable. A common feeling was they would rather risk dying of Covid than spend any more time alone. Advanced age meant they felt it was better to enjoy what life they had left than to prolong the inevitable staying at home.

Many of our clients feel their needs should not be spoken of – they don’t want to cause a fuss. I often wonder if this is the last generation that will be accepting of what they are given, be that money, time or healthcare. There is a sense of pride, sometimes stubbornness, which makes them accept what little is offered. Having lived through rationing, some of them during the second world war, many have the mindset of not asking for more.

So many people say to us, “I don’t know what I would have done without you” or “you saved my life”. We have to catch as many as possible of those who fall through the net.

Molly Fox in an armchair with a patchwork blanket

Molly lives alone – her family are on the other side of the world – which means she’s often lonely even though she has FaceTime calls with them regularly. She manages to get out on her mobility scooter and is well known around her home town. Molly, like many others, struggles to keep warm while keeping her bills affordable. Fear of debt means she wears a coat over her clothes, gloves, scarf and a hot-water bottle, and has hot drinks to keep warm in her lounge when she is alone. Pride and the habit of “living within your means” drives Molly to save money wherever she can.

Tom is a veteran who we came into contact with about three years ago. He would attend our events with Marion, his wife, who was living with dementia. They were self-sufficient, not asking for any help.

But Marion recently died and now Tom is totally bereft after looking after his wife of almost 70 years. The love they shared shone through. Now, filling each day becomes a struggle; he can still hear her voice calling out in the night.

I visit him and his face lights up. As someone who knew Marion, he feels comfortable talking to me about her and how much he misses her. Loneliness is not always a visible condition, but it can have a dramatic impact on your wellbeing and your will to go on.

Ellen is a lovely, feisty lady of 92. She doesn’t suffer fools gladly. I am left in no doubt about her opinion on all things. Living alone, Ellen is well used to managing all her own affairs but still she enjoys my visits and we talk about trying to reconnect with her son who she hasn’t seen for some time, something she would dearly love to do.

Ellen Pickard making some food in her kitchen

Flora lives in a council flat and would love to have a dog of her own but isn’t allowed; instead her lounge is full of dog ornaments and candles. Her flat is immaculate and she takes great pride in her home and her appearance. Flora is nearly blind and has several long-term health conditions that means she is in constant pain.

Flora wants to talk to a willing listener and welcomes me into her home. There are always cakes and biscuits on a plate. Time is all she wants and needs, human connection. Flora has a visitor from Age UK who comes weekly, bringing companionship and a helping hand, a precious friend and confidant.

Audrey is a widow and still in moderate health for her age; she lives independently in her own bungalow. Life is comfortable and although lonely she has made some new friends after visiting one of our Time for Tea events. Lilly is now a firm friend after buying Audrey’s first ever birthday cake at age 90.

Lilly lives alone in a block of six almshouses built for single women among all her pictures and ornaments gathered through her life. I have known Lilly for about three years, but we became closer when she came along on a trip that we organised to Liverpool.

With Lilly, a wicked sense of humour hides a sadness below the surface, and I’m one of the privileged few to see that side of her. Help to get attendance allowance means Lilly can afford to have a taxi to take her into town, but she misses the church she regularly attended before Covid.

Brenda Wardle, 66, has been working for Age UK Wakefield district for five years as a programme manager

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