(A Case Study on Emotional Deprivation in Later Life)
Sofika Yitsuthu
BSW 5th Semester, NEISSR
Population ageing has emerged as a significant social concern worldwide, bringing increased attention to the physical, psychological and emotional well-being of older adults. While financial security is often considered a key determinant of quality of life in old age, the lived experiences of many elderly individuals reveal that material wealth alone cannot guarantee emotional well-being. This case study explores the life of Mrs. Leo (name changed to protect confidentiality), an 81-year-old woman from Nagaland, whose story illustrates the profound impact of bereavement, social isolation, and the loss of meaningful relationships in later life.
Coming from a wealthy family, her home was large, her wardrobe full, and her kitchen always busy with domestic help. Yet, behind the gates of that grand house hid a woman whose real wealth was never in land or gold, but in the love of her husband and only son. With the loss of her son ten years ago and her husband a few months ago, all that remained of her earlier life was a deep sense of emptiness masked by material comfort which felt void and insignificant.
After the deaths of her husband and son, family members gradually took over her properties, citing legal and practical reasons. With no immediate family left to care for her, she was placed in an old-age home, where she now spends her days sitting by the window, staring out at the world with tired eyes. She speaks little about the luxuries she once had. Instead, she often says, “It’s not the properties or the possessions I yearns for, it’s the warmth of my husband’s voice and the sound of my son I deeply miss”.
As I interacted with Mrs Leo it was a quiet but powerful lesson. At first, it was easy to assume that elderly people from wealthy backgrounds are settled and taken care of. But her story shattered that assumption. She continues to eat without appetite, sleeps with frequent awakenings, and often cries at night, calling out the names of her son and husband. She has everything except the one thing she truly craves: love, presence, and continued belonging.
Her experience highlighted a simple yet profound truth: in the sunset stage of life, the elderly need affection, attention, and emotional security far more than material possessions. Money can buy beds, medicines, and even food, but it cannot bring back a son’s laughter, a husband’s hand on the shoulder, or a relative who visits just to sit and talk. Mrs Leo’s life, once rich in property but now rich in loneliness became a mirror for me, reflecting how easily society pushes the elderly aside once they stop being useful or productive.
What inspired me most was Mrs Leo’s gentle reminder that care is not shown in the size of an inheritance, but in the number of smiles, the length of visits, and the willingness to listen. She often says, “If someone had just held my hand and asked how I was feeling, I don’t think my heart would feel so cold.” Her words stayed with me, shaping a new understanding of geriatric care: that the most important service we can offer the elderly is not buildings or wealth management, but consistent, compassionate human presence.
The person who was once loved, lost and ignored is not just Mrs Leo’s story; it is a reflection of many elderly people living in old age homes, nursing homes or even within families. They may have survived the loss of spouses, children and wealth, but they are still waiting for someone to remember that they are not just “old people” to be housed and fed but human beings with hearts that long for love, recognition and belonging.
In the end, I realised that if there is one thing every elderly person deserves in their final years, it is not a will, or a bank balance, but the warmth of genuine care and compassionate relationships. A simple question, “How are you feeling today?” can heal more wounds than any inheritance, property or financial asset in the world.
