Our company has defined its business domain around Japan’s aging society and is also engaged in nursing-care–related businesses. However, I had never personally faced “caregiving” as a real, immediate issue until now.

My father, who passed away eleven years ago, never required nursing care; he gradually weakened as his illness progressed and died after about six months in the hospital. As the years passed, it never occurred to me—at least until very recently—that my mother, who had cared for my father, would herself come to need care. Although my mother’s situation is not particularly severe, I would like to write here about her as a personal experience.

Even after my father passed away, my mother continued to live an active, healthy life. She spent her days enjoying herself with friends her age, doing things like dancing, writing haiku, and singing karaoke. However, the COVID-19 pandemic completely changed that way of life. With outings restricted, the groups she belonged to shut down, and her contact with friends was lost.

I was told that during the subsequent years of the pandemic, some of the central members in her groups passed away or fell ill. A few years ago, the classification of COVID-19 under the Infectious Diseases Control Law was shifted to “Category V–equivalent,” and society had effectively returned to normal, but in the end, the communities my mother belonged to hardly resumed at all.

Joining a new community after turning eighty is not easy. Another two years passed, and with her opportunities for social contact nearly gone, my mother spoke less with others, went out less, and gradually grew less inclined to involve herself in things. Her appetite gradually waned, and her weight began to drop. Fortunately, her cognitive decline so far has been mild, and it has not caused major difficulties in her daily life. Still, I worry that without intervention, her condition may continue to worsen.

I learned about my mother’s condition from updates from my sister, who lives nearby, but she also works and cannot devote all of her time to our mother. I myself live far away, making it difficult to provide sufficient support. In the end, my sister and I decided to move our mother to a location near my home.

Seeing her up close again, I came to identify three priorities: increasing her opportunities to communicate with others; increasing her opportunities to go out and regain physical strength; and ensuring that she eats properly. If we can maintain these three elements—and given that she is not suffering from any major illness—she should remain healthy and live well for years to come. Yes, the demands have increased, but when I think of it as repaying my mother, they seem trivial. I want to do everything I can for my mother, who gave birth to me, raised me, and protected me.

These feelings, however, stem purely from my personal emotions. When viewed from a socially objective standpoint, apart from the parent–child relationship, the situation looks different. My mother receives support not only from family members like me but also from society through the medical and social security systems. Ideally, the societal burden of caring for people like my mother would remain manageable, but if it becomes unsustainable, we must confront how to address these challenges.

The number of elderly people requiring care will continue to increase, and the duration of care is also lengthening. Meanwhile, the working-age population continues to decline. A system that relies solely on the working-age population is no longer sustainable.

What we feel as individuals and what we think as members of society can sometimes be at odds. A society in which people can live long lives is wonderful, but how should we deal with “living long in good health” versus “living long after losing vitality”? Drawing that line is difficult, and there may be no definitive answer. Even so, we cannot turn away from this issue and should continue the discussion. We need to take the time to build consensus by fostering a shared understanding that we cannot—and must not—pass this burden on to our children, grandchildren, or future generations.

Living healthily right up to the end and passing away quickly—an ideal often referred to in Japan as pinpin korori (PPK)—may be desirable, but in reality, it is difficult to achieve. What I am now experiencing through my mother is something I will inevitably face myself one day, and I need to think carefully and live in a way that makes use of what I have learned from her.

Hirotaka Shimizu
Chairman and CEO
Kamakura Shinsho, Ltd.

Image material：PIXTA