Solitary enjoyment of the elderly during Chinese New Year dinner: “Don’t overthink” when facing changes
Hello, I am Haiyun, 78 years old this year.
On January 6th, the community meal in Huaxing neighborhood in Taipei, which had been suspended due to the epidemic, resumed. When she sees everyone, Auntie Haiyun can always chat for a few words, even with neighboring residents she just met at the meal, they soon become acquainted with each other, and she is ready to take them to visit her place.
After walking up a long slope, climbing a staircase equivalent to one floor in front of the apartment building, and then climbing three more floors, you finally arrive. Inside the four-ping suite, there is a single bed, a TV, a small refrigerator, and a table and chairs. White paper with shiny stickers covers the walls, which are full of dampness and mildew.
Auntie is busy making space and inviting people to sit down, asking, “Are you hot? Let me turn on the fan for you.”
After chatting with friends, Auntie Haiyun went downstairs to visit Uncle Zhou, who also lives in this apartment building. This apartment building is dedicated to renting to the elderly and has 16 rooms, each of which is occupied by a single resident.
Uncle Zhou, who is around the same age as Aunt Haiyun, has limited mobility and only goes out occasionally. Aunt Haiyun said that he used to wear stiff old leather shoes, so she went to the market to buy him a comfortable pair of shoes, and she also donated the socks left by her husband and son to him.
Living alone after losing her son
Behind her concern for others and her warm greetings, Aunt Haiyun’s life is not easy. Her husband passed away, her daughter lives abroad, and her son passed away five years ago. Aunt Haiyun started living alone. During this time, she looked for more than 10 rooms, but was rejected one by one because of her age. With the help of social welfare groups, she finally succeeded in renting a home in Taipei City.
“I not only have Parkinson’s disease, but also nerve compression due to bone pressure. I asked the doctor if I could have surgery, but he said no, because you are single, and if you have surgery, someone needs to take care of you,” she said, swallowing a painkiller that she must take every day.
Living in a nursing home with personal care was also one of Aunt Haiyun’s options, but the location was remote, and her mobility was limited. Moreover, she would have to share a room with others. In comparison, she prefers her current freedom, even if she has to go up and down three floors every day.
The taste of childhood: Memories of Shanghai through baked gluten
As a senior living alone, Haiyun auntie is on the list of care recipients for social welfare organizations. Every Chinese New Year, the staff delivers a communal feast to her, but in her heart, the dish that brings back the most memories of the holiday is not among them. It is a dish with gluten, shiitake mushrooms, and a savory-sweet taste. “That’s called…baked gluten! My daughter makes it so well,” she says.
It has been more than 50 years since she last made this dish, and now she has to ask her daughter to remind her of the necessary ingredients. But she still remembers the cooking process: stir-fry ginger with bamboo shoots, shiitake mushrooms, carrots, golden needles, and wood ear fungus, add sugar, a little mirin and soy sauce, and then add pre-fried baked gluten and simmer until the flavor is absorbed.
Although it may sound simple, making delicious Kao Fu (roasted wheat gluten) is not easy. Kao Fu was a dish that only appeared during the Lunar New Year when Haiyun Auntie was a child. Usually, her family would cook a large pot of it, and they would eat it from New Year’s Eve until the fifth day of the new year.
Today, except for eating Kao Fu with her sister during the festival, Haiyun Auntie rarely has the opportunity to taste this hometown dish.
Don’t “shackle” yourself. There is a plan for the last part of life.
In recent years, Aunt Haiyun would go to her sister’s house for the Chinese New Year’s Eve dinner, but she would return to her small apartment after the meal. Year after year, she doesn’t feel lonely and has no desire to find a partner to take care of each other.
“I’m happy alone. I don’t want to ‘shackle’ myself or create trouble for myself.” Besides worrying about not getting along, she’s also afraid that if she’s not well, she won’t be able to take care of the other person.
Aunt Haiyun enjoys her alone time at home and talks about playing mahjong on her mobile phone, which not only saves money but also avoids vocal cord atrophy. “If I lose, I’ll use Taiwanese to ‘scold’ them, meaning I try to speak as much as possible!”
At 78 years old and with ailments in her body, Haiyun Auntie has already made plans for the last stage of her life. “I have told the neighborhood chief that if I really can’t walk or move anymore, find a way to help me apply to Taipei’s nursing home.” However, she hopes that day will never come and doesn’t want to become the elderly she refers to as “lying there being fed by others.”
Eight years ago, Haiyun Auntie also signed contracts for no emergency treatment and body donation. “I also donated my body to Wan Fang Teaching Hospital for research, to see which part of my brain was malfunctioning, haha.”
Facing the serious issue of life and death, Auntie remains optimistic. She said the secret to a happy solo life is “not thinking too much” and “eating whatever I want without being picky.” When you feel good, your face naturally looks better.
Original article from PTS News (Written by Chen You-Zhen and Xu Pei-Hua; photographed by He Wen-Chao)