I’ve noticed something. After caring for elderly wealthy people in their homes for a few years, I have realized that the amount of money in the bank account doesn’t necessarily change the quality of a person. Sure, the weight and scale with which life has been lived can be vastly different, but people are still people.
It doesn’t matter what side of the tracks you were born on when you come to the end of your life. Yes, money can buy more comfortable care and maybe medicine to ease some pain, but money doesn’t buy you affection. No matter how many homes I’ve worked in, I can’t help but be convinced again and again that money cannot buy you love. Powerful people now relegated to a wheelchair, unable to wine and dine peers to maintain status, are left with memories of fading accomplishments, and not enough affection. Tales of conquests, fame, and well-publicized charity work get rehashed, but no one comes to visit them without ulterior motives.
I know I sound harsh, but I’m frequently amazed at the shallowness of life when it is not lived fully. Frankly, I have been stunned that the conversations I have witnessed were not coming from a movie screen, but were right in front of me. I’ve gone home wondering: “Did I really just hear that?” The motivation of money and the power so many think it possesses is passed on so easily, and I’m so surprised every time it happens. Do you not see what it got them? Are you so different? Greed and selfishness knows no boundaries.
Wealth and privilege do not guarantee character. Nor do they guarantee a heart that is full.
Was it worth it?
Will I be different?