Avoid the Tragedy of Disconnection
Cultivate life-saving connections and community
Several years after moving in with us, my mom received a call from her best friend Annie’s son, delivering the heartbreaking news that his mom had died due to a fall she suffered at home. I’ve never forgotten it. While falling can signal the beginning of the end for many, it wasn’t the fall itself that took her life; rather, it was the fact that she lay on the floor for over two days, which exacerbated her injuries. When she was finally discovered and hospitalized, her injuries had worsened so significantly that she passed away 10 days later.
Isolation and disconnection are hidden, silent killers in societies around the world. Even those who, on the surface, may not appear to be isolated can fall victim to these pitfalls.
High-profile illustration
The recent events surrounding the deaths of Gene Hackman and his wife, Betsy Arakawa, have saddened me deeply. As a rule, I don’t care for celebrity culture, but I do care intensely about the quality of life in our later years, especially after walking alongside several elderly family members the last decade of their lives. Sadly, the Hackmans' case is a high-profile illustration of what happens to many people in this disconnected world.
For those unfamiliar with the events, Gene Hackman, the Oscar-winning actor, and his wife were found deceased in their Santa Fe, New Mexico, home on February 26 of this year. Ms. Arakawa, 65, died from hantavirus pulmonary syndrome, a rare and often fatal disease transmitted through rodent droppings. Mr. Hackman, 95, succumbed to hypertensive and atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease, with advanced Alzheimer's disease contributing to his death.
Ms. Arakawa was last seen alive on February 11, 2025, and had scheduled a medical appointment for the following day due to respiratory issues, which she missed. Authorities assume her passing was on or close to February 11 or 12. Tragically, without his wife as his caregiver, Mr. Hackman likely passed away about a week after her death, possibly unaware of her demise due to his cognitive condition.
It’s heartbreaking to think of him living on his own for a week, innocent and unaided.
Missing connections
Granted, we only know what is disclosed and reported, but as the public story unfolded, I wondered how or why no one noticed their absence during those perilous days. Apparently, they were very private people, living in a gated community in New Mexico on a 12-acre hilltop, far from the public eye. Although the home was nearly 9,000 square feet, it appears that there was no housekeeper or groundskeeper on-site on a daily or weekly basis.
They did, however, have a long-time contractor who was scheduled for work and who became suspicious after a lapse in communication. He contacted the police department to request a wellness check, but for reasons unknown, the police did not act on his concerns. As time passed, he grew increasingly worried and finally visited the property, leading to the discovery of the bodies on February 26, fifteen days after Betsy was last known to be alive.
This is what I find so regrettable and ultimately avoidable. In such relative seclusion, there was no one to notice the unusual lack of activity at the Hackman home, or that their cars hadn’t moved, or that their dogs were barking unusually. It’s hard to know why there weren’t friends or family who would have been checking in regularly and been alarmed at unanswered texts or calls, but for whatever reason, there weren’t. That’s the saddest part of all.
A culture of privacy and disconnection
Ironically, we are living in what should be the most connected time in history… and yet we are surprisingly disconnected. Independence is prized over interdependence. Societal and cultural shifts in community structures, along with changes in how we live, work, and communicate, have eroded traditional sources of connection, which has a profound effect on behaviors and interactions.
When Andrea and I moved into our neighborhood nearly 34 years ago, for better or worse, neighbors were intertwined in each other's lives. We knew the comings and goings, the plans and vacations, births and graduations, as well as the arguments and celebrations. We also noticed when rhythms were broken and followed up with a knock on the door or a text to check in.
Over the decades, as older generations moved out and younger families moved in, the dynamic has changed significantly, except for a couple of neighborhood fixtures, such as the elderly neighbor who shares our driveway. She is a wee bit like Gladys Kravitz from the classic TV show Bewitched, always surveying the street and keeping tabs on everyone, but in a good way. She sends me texts if our lights aren’t on at night, or if both cars are gone and we haven’t told her we’re leaving. Far from being annoyed by her nosy nature, I always thank her and reassure her that everything is ok. In turn, we check on her if we don’t see her out with her dog or if we know she’s not feeling well.
While most people might find her a little much, in my mind, it’s what neighbors should do. It’s what community means. I’ll take her prying eyes any day over the lukewarm distance of the new generation of neighbors that, although cordial with their smiles and waves, mostly keep to themselves. Their attitude feels in step with the current pervasive cultural mindset of privacy and boundaries that are not to be crossed. Growing up in the 60s and 70s, I never recall anyone discussing boundaries or signing mind-numbing privacy statements. But then again, we were also afraid to put a toe out of line in public, fearing that someone would see us and report it to my mom. In hindsight, that check-and-balance system was not such a bad thing!
Cultivate a connected community
While connections are crucial for every phase of life, they become especially important as we age, and there are many factors that contribute to disconnection. Social media, which was ostensibly developed to maintain relationships, has instead fostered an unnatural connectedness that is neither fulfilling nor healthy. Concurrently, there is a steep decline in civic and religious involvement that once created social connections. Sadly, family estrangement and geographic separation have disrupted intergenerational and familial support systems as well, exacerbating the effects of these cultural shifts.
Armed with this knowledge, we can intentionally create our own connected communities for ourselves and our loved ones. These collectives can take many different forms for various individuals. I believe that communal living may become a future trend, as discussed in my post “The Golden Girls Are on to Something.”
I have a friend with an extremely close-knit circle of like-minded, faithful women who gather often, pray together, travel together, and are interwoven into each other’s lives. Another friend of mine is flourishing in her 80s since moving in with her daughter’s family, where she plays an integral role in their lives and her church community.
A handful of my friends have moved their parents either into their home, a home on their property, and in one very providential instance, the home next door. Even though I personally have a visceral aversion to retirement developments, I see all the positive benefits of a ready-made thriving community for many people, not the least of which are plenty of busybodies to check in with you if you miss pickleball or pot-throwing.
If living close to a support system isn’t feasible or you simply enjoy solitude, intentionally establishing a consistent habit of reaching out to people just to say hello will not only nourish your soul but could also be lifesaving for you or the other person. (And although I don’t want to endorse digital automation, there are apps that serve as daily check-in services for you and your loved ones, which I suppose aren’t entirely awful in a pinch.)
Create your future
Perhaps the Hackmans’ tragic end affected me so deeply because it reminded me of my mom’s friend Annie, whom I still think about from time to time. If she had been found sooner, she wouldn’t have had to spend two presumably painful, fearful, and lonely days on the floor, which is such a sad end. But her end (and theirs) does not have to be our inevitable.
We have the ability to create our own future by intentionally cultivating the rarefied community that once came naturally. Whether it is with relatives or an extended family, we can mindfully build an emotional and physical support system for ourselves and others to live well, age great.