In times of crisis, we put women and children first. Except for women and children in congregate care settings, and the (mostly) women who care for them the world over.
The elderly and the infirm remain largely invisible when war encroaches. For most of us, it’s too painful to think of those for whom an arduous trek across snow-covered, bombed-out roads is an impossibility. Of those who might not even have the opportunity to become refugees. Of those whose fate rests solely with their Ukrainian caregivers, who have families and lives of their own to consider.
And so, as the world around them collapses, thousands of Ukraine’s most vulnerable become moreso. Many don’t understand what’s happening: the torment of the bombs, the lack of power and heat, the changes in routine and meals.
The choices their caregivers must make are unfathomable, as they do what they can with what they have. Scenes demonstrating that are commonplace in Ukraine now.
Then, there are the reports of outright atrocities: Seniors being killed in clearly marked civilian evacuation shelters, family caregivers murdered by snipers while scrounging for food and medicine, a nursing home reportedly targeted by Russian tanks.
I don’t have an answer for how we help such people when further international action may unleash madness on the rest of the world. But my plea is that we not look away.
For my family, there is a through-line here. Both of my husband’s grandparents were born and raised in Ukraine. My husband’s grandmother, long-time maker of the borscht and keeper of the flame, is alive at 94 and now a nursing home resident. She is free from this war only by having fled authoritarian threats when she was younger.
Decades later, pandemic-era lockdowns threatened her will to live. Constant confusion and fear of death were very real, especially early in this crisis.
Our healthcare providers and government began a return to normalcy that helped Baba and our nation rebound. Neither fleeing Ukranians nor those left behind may ever know normalcy again. But while we await the outcome of this war, it is our job to keep our hearts open and to be sure that others do, too.
Caregivers can lift the hopes of a nation by being who they are and doing what they do.
Please don’t look away.
