Abandoned

 Abandoned

September, 2024

Steven B. Zwickel

I never dreamt it would happen to me, but I feel like I have been deserted, abandoned, left out of the loop. I am not just talking about the people I used to work with, who all promised we would “get together” sometime soon. (only two ever did and usually if  I contact them first—so what I learned about being retired is that it’s a lot like being dead). I’m talking about family.

When I was growing up, having direct and fairly frequent contact with parents and grandparents was the norm. After I left for college, I called home at least once a week, mostly so my parents wouldn’t worry about me, but also because I was still very much a part of the family. I called my 75-year old grandmother every week until just before she died. These were long-distance calls, so they weren’t cheap, but they were important.
We did things as a family, what we called “the togetherness bit” and enjoyed each other's company. I admit that, as I moved further into adulthood, there was too much togetherness, which sometimes felt stifling. So, I learned to create the boundaries I needed to become an independent adult, while keeping close—a comfortable distance—to my family.

When social media came along, I was eager to find out what all the excitement was about, so I joined FaceBook, MySpace, and Twitter. The glow of newness wore off very quickly. Too many ads, too many nasty comments, too much plain crap. I decided I was not interested in these new social media platforms and I abandoned my accounts. 

I don't know if I still have a FaceBook page, since I haven’t used it in nearly 20 years. Some people I knew in the past tried to “friend” me, but I ignored them. I wasn’t interested. 

I have a telephone number and an email address (and a street address where mail is delivered to my door). I have accounts with Zoom, Skype, FaceTime, and Microsoft Teams, so I can do video calls. I figured, wrongly, that anyone who wanted to get in touch with me could do so.

Now I feel cut off from many people I used to feel close to. 

When I first began to feel left out, I tried to be tactful. I’d call or email. I would encourage them to “please stay in touch.” They chose not to.

I became more assertive and asked why I hadn’t heard from them; they said it’s my fault for not keeping up with the latest fads in social media. 

They don’t talk, they text, and, since I don’t use a smartphone, I do not text. Of course, without a smartphone I don’t use Instagram or Snapchat. ➽ I used YouTube 15  years ago to live-stream a course I was teaching. At the time, it was considered a great innovation in distance learning!

 I tried a few more times to let them know that talking to them or exchanging emails was important to me. Silence. 

With one exception, I have been ghosted by my family. Out of sight, out of mind. I am hurt, angry, and depressed. They don’t seem to know or care. 

I am not the only one who has had this happen. Other people have told me that they are also left out of family connections—some on purpose, others for unknown reasons. Here’s a piece written by someone who understands the problem:

Lost Connections: The Erosion of Family Bonds

In an era defined by digital connectivity, the irony of diminishing human connection is palpable. While we’ve never been more technologically connected, the quality and depth of our relationships, particularly with older generations, seem to be eroding. The simple act of picking up the phone or visiting in person, once a cornerstone of family life, has become increasingly rare.

Our grandparents, who grew up in a time when communication relied on letters and phone calls, cherished the time they spent with their families. They understood the importance of face-to-face interactions and the value of shared experiences. Today, however, many young people claim that they are too busy with work, school, or social commitments to prioritize these connections. (Busy? Really? Each day, the average Gen-Z spends 6hrs-5min on their phone; average Millenial spends 4hrs-36min on their phone; average Gen-X spends 4hrs-9min on their phone; average Baby Boomer spends 3hrs-31min on their phone <https://www.harmonyhit.com/phone-screen-time-statistics/>).

The rise of social media contributed to this trend. Platforms like Facebook and Instagram can facilitate communication, but also create a false sense of connection. A quick like or comment may feel satisfying, but it can’t replace the warmth and intimacy of a genuine conversation. A short Zoom call is always better than an emoji.

Moreover, the generational divide in technological literacy can be a barrier to meaningful communication. Older adults may struggle to adapt to new technologies, while younger people may assume that their parents and grandparents are not interested in learning. This is ageism and it can lead to misunderstandings and a sense of disconnection. (“Ageism is defined as discrimination against older people because of negative and inaccurate stereotypes—and it’s so ingrained in our culture that we often don’t even notice.” <https://www.apa.org/monitor/2023/03/cover-new-concept-of-aging>. 

This apparent decline in family connections is not solely a generational issue. All of us, regardless of age, have a responsibility to nurture our relationships with loved ones. By making a conscious effort to stay in touch, we can strengthen family bonds, preserve our cultural heritage, and enrich our own lives.

We need to recommit ourselves to the simple act of human connection. Whether it's a phone call, a visit, or a shared meal, every effort counts. By reaching out to our parents and grandparents, we not only honor their wisdom and experience but also ensure that the precious threads of family history are woven into the tapestry of our own lives.

Couldn’t have said it better myself.