It's one thing to want to live alone, but what about dying alone?

 

We can imagine that many people “disappear” because they simply walk off without telling anyone they are leaving or where they are going; this tends to be the most probable explanation for the “mysterious” disappearances of Native American women, such as the one who “disappeared” from a reservation in Washington and was “found” by Las Vegas police, who reported that she was “fine” and having a good time. You could also add to your “fame” by “famously” disappearing without a trace, like Ambrose Bierce, Amelia Earhart and Jimmy Hoffa. Or you could simply “disappear” because no one knows or cares if you exist.

Such was the story the other day about how last Friday the fire brigade in the upscale resort city of Como, in northern Italy, was called upon to investigate a home where a tree had fallen in the garden during a wind storm. The neighbors had not actually seen anyone in or near the home since the fall of 2019, and the property was overgrown with weeds. Receiving no response upon knocking, the police were called and they broke into the house and made the rather macabre discovery of the remains of a woman sitting in chair.

The mummified condition of Marinella Beretta’s body suggested that she had been sitting there dead for over two years. Neighbors claimed that they believed that she had moved away, but they had not expressed any concerns about the deteriorating conditions of the property before. Furthermore, no family member seemed concerned about her lack of communication or even visited her. It’s not like Italy is huge country; if Beretta had any relatives, they were likely at most a few hours drive away, although reports were she allegedly had no known living relatives. Probably because of her financial situation, she did not qualify for public assistance, and social services did not have her on their list for periodic welfare checkups.

We are told that “all of Italy” is “shocked” by this discovery; but what if that tree had not fallen? How many more years would have passed before someone would have noticed that something “amiss” was going on at that house? According to EuroNews, “In Italy, almost 40% of people over 75 live alone, according to a 2018 report by the National Statistics Institute (Istat). The same percentage of people have no relatives or friends to turn to in times of need.”

And as we might suspect, it isn’t much different in the U.S., where the American Psychological Association informs us that 12 million adults 65+ live alone, that two-thirds are women (probably explained by the fact that they live 10 percent longer than men), that one-third are “financially comfortable,” and 61 percent prefer to “age” in their own homes. The Pew Foundation reports that American seniors are twice as likely to live alone as those in other countries. The Joint Center For Housing Studies claims that by 2038, the number of people living alone in their 80s and 90s will “soar” to 10 million.

Homeless seniors who pass away are at least “found” in a short time, unless they camp out alone in a location hidden from view. Those people generally don’t want to be “found” when they are alive, so it might not matter to them. In a 2020 article in the Journal of Aging Studies, it suggests that even for those with homes

Dying alone does not mean one has limited social connections (is socially isolated) nor that one prefers to stay at home (is reclusive or socially withdrawn). Furthermore, it does not mean one feels alone (or is lonely). Rather it means that one chooses to experience death alone, or that one cannot be accompanied at death for other reasons by those with whom the individual feels close. This may parallel how that individual has lived a more solitary life or it may be quite different, having had a life full of family, colleagues and friends. Dying alone does not mean one has had a lonely life just as, in life, living alone does not infer a lonely life.

Yet people dying alone and local government entities having to take charge of their bodies is a growing phenomenon in this country, where last year the Washington Post reported that “tens of thousands” people died with no one to identify or claim their bodies. In a 2015 story about the case of George Bell, who was found in his trash-ridden apartment six days after he died, was one of about 1,500  a year in New York City who, according to the Gothamist, “was one of those people who, after dying alone, turned out to be so disconnected that city officials had to handle his end-of-life business, from cremation to emptying out his apartment to executing his will” after being “tasked with combing through the mess to try to find some clues about who might be Bell's next of kin, how he should be buried, and what all belonged to him.” Bell was one of those who the New York Times described as one of those who “die alone in unwatched struggles. No one collects their bodies. No one mourns the conclusion of their life.”

In Japan with its rapidly growing elderly population, death by kodokushi is becoming rampant; as many as 30,000 people a year are so alone and isolated from family or friends that they just decide to quit life and lay in bed waiting for death to come, their bodies often not found for months and even years. One 69-year-old man was dead for three years in his apartment before his body was found, and a story in Slate told of another such man:

Three months ago in an apartment on the outskirts of Osaka, Japan, Haruki Watanabe died alone. For weeks his body slowly decomposed, slouched in its own fluids and surrounded by fetid, fortnight-old food. He died of self-neglect, solitude, and a suspected heart problem. At 60, Watanabe, wasn’t old, nor was he especially poor. He had no friends, no job, no wife, and no concerned children. His son hadn’t spoken to him in years, nor did he want to again.

There are other equally disturbing cases, such as the British woman, Joyce Carol Vincent, who was dead in her flat for three years, and according to The Sun, "with the TV still tuned to BBC when she was found due to accumulated unpaid rent.” I mean, the landlord waited three years to make an inquiry about unpaid rent?

The Guardian reported on the case of Sandra Drummond, who “left few possessions when she died. Police found in her bedroom a pot of Vaseline, a hot water bottle, a stuffed koala, a roll of Sellotape and a child's snow globe. It wasn't much to show for 44 years. But these scattered items were the only clues to her identity. Her body had lain undiscovered for almost 12 months until the gas company forced the door to her upstairs flat in Hulme, Manchester, in July 2007. The corpse was so decomposed that an inquest could not determine the cause of death. No living relatives could be traced. No mourners attended her funeral.”

The Guardian observed that “There are a growing number of people like Sandra; modern-day Eleanor Rigbys (from the Beatles’ song) who die with no friends or family to notice. Some have mental health problems and find themselves detached from the world. Some are elderly and have outlived their families. Sometimes there is no explanation: they have simply sunk without trace.”

Such cases have been more common since the pandemic began. ProPublica reported how people  in Chicago’s private and public housing projects, like Leonard Graves, had been found “dead for some time” because “managers at some federally subsidized but privately owned buildings cut staffing and security. Informal systems of care that residents had organized for themselves over the years were disrupted by social-distancing guidelines and fear of the virus. At CHA buildings, outreach workers were not required to check on most residents until late April, well after Graves and others died alone and unnoticed.”

Still, there are people who just prefer to be “alone,” and don’t seem to care, just hoping that they can make their lives mean something at least to themselves. But it is a macabre thought that you might die from natural causes in a place where there are people living or passing by, and no one would find your body for years because, well, no one really cares about you, either.