Saturday, January 24, 2026

This Is the Most Expensive Thing in Old Age.

This Is the Most Expensive Thing in Old Age.
In old age, the most expensive thing is not medicine, not surgery, not even a cane.
The most expensive thing is silence—that cold, heavy silence you don’t hear with your ears, but that strikes the soul.
It’s the silence that arrives when children don’t call, don’t write, don’t visit; when the phone becomes a mute object and the house, once a refuge full of laughter, now listens only to the relentless tick-tock of a clock that seems to measure loneliness.
That emptiness can’t be filled with money or cured with pills. It’s an invisible pain, but constant—one that doesn’t bleed on the outside, yet wears you down inside.
And the most painful part isn’t loneliness itself… it’s the memory.
It’s knowing that one day you gave everything: sleepless nights for a fever, extra work so there would be bread on the table, endless patience to teach how to walk, to speak, to dream.
It’s remembering that you gave unconditional love—and that today, in return, not even a “How are you?” arrives, not even an “I miss you.”
Many parents grow old staring out the window, waiting for a visit that never comes. Some invent excuses to justify their children’s absence: “They’re busy,” “They have their own lives,” “They’ll probably come on Sunday.” But Sundays pass… and the armchair remains empty.
And then, when death finally arrives and the body rests in silence, everyone shows up. They come with expensive flowers, beautiful words, sincere or forced tears, and a regret that can no longer fix anything.
Because love not given in life becomes an eternal debt, and time not shared turns into guilt.
Don’t wait for the coffin to be present.
Don’t use work, distance, or “later” as excuses. “Later” often never comes. Go today. Call today. Hug today. Listen to those stories you already know by heart, but that your parents need to tell one more time.
Because the most valuable love is not the one spoken at a funeral, but the one given while the other heart is still beating to feel it. And that—if you give it in time—has no price… but if you let it pass, it becomes the most expensive debt of your life.

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