The last obligation: to die on time.
I look around and it’s like I don’t recognize my world anymore.
Where were my grandparents when I grew up? At the table, with us.
With a gentle voice, with tired but alive eyes.
Today, old age has become a shame. A burden. A red line in the budget.

In the UK, there is talk that dying after 75 will cost your heirs a fortune.
If your parent dies at 76, you, the child, will pay taxes as if you had committed a sin:
that of loving them enough to keep them alive.
67% of your pension – taken by the state.
Not for roads. Not for hospitals.
Because “they lived too long”.

In the Netherlands, if you’re over 75 and feeling sad, you can go ahead and sign.
After six months of “counseling,” they legally reassure you.
You don’t have to be sick, just old and possibly lonely.
Because for some, that’s already a fatal diagnosis.

And in all this bureaucratic madness, the question arises:
will it be valid for everyone?
Officially, yes. For men and women, the same.
But the reality? Different.

The man, at 75, after a life in which he carried, kept quiet, paid, collected…
looks into the eyes of his children and no longer sees love. He sees calculation.
And because he loves them, he will give in.
He will sign. Not because he wants to die,
but because he doesn’t want to embarrass them.

The woman, perhaps single, perhaps widowed, receives the soft smile of the system:
“You are free. Be worthy.”
And she, tired, forgotten, unheard – will choose death as the last act of loyalty
to some children who no longer had time to answer her phone.

But the truth is one:
the European state doesn’t want old people anymore.
It wants numbers. It wants efficiency.
And because it doesn’t have the courage to shoot them, it educates them to kill themselves.

The wife will say to the man:
“Maybe it would be better, dear…”
The daughter will look at the mother and whisper:
“You’ll save us if you leave us something…”
And the old man will say:
“If it helps you, I’ll go.”

But no one will admit to killing him.

In Belgium, it’s legal to die of depression.
In Canada, if you’re poor and disabled, you’re offered the injection – in homelessness.
And here in Romania, maybe not today, but tomorrow, a lady with a Brussels accent will come
and say it’s “for the good of all.”

And you will laugh, bitterly.
Because yes – the EU is an absurd comedy with a tragic ending.
It slowly buries you, smiling European. With funds.

They taught us that life is a right.
Now they teach us that death is an obligation.
That it is “solidarity”.
That it is “ecology”.
That it is “dignity”.

But there’s nothing dignified about convincing your father to die so you can pay your mortgage.
There’s nothing clean about pushing your mother to be euthanized so you can keep your house.

In Leviticus it says:
“You shall rise up before the gray haired man and honor the face of the old man.”
But today, the old man is called to rise up alone… toward the exit.

And we sit and watch. We say, “That’s civilized.”
But you know what’s not civilized?
Burying your parent alive.
Legally putting him to sleep and taking his apartment.

No, my dears. It’s not progress.
It’s bureaucratic satanism.
With tables, with procedures, with smiling NGOs and sterile envelopes.
But without a heart.

And if you keep quiet today,
tomorrow you’ll sign for dad.
The day after tomorrow – for you.

Christ died so that you could live.
Not so that the state could decide when you’ve lived enough.

Reject this lie.
Defend life.
Defend old age.
Defend dignity.
Because life is sacred.
Until the last breath.”

Author: Anatol Basarab

In contrast, we want our parents and grandparents to be very healthy their entire life, and to live as long as God gives them days here on the earth!

Translated from original Romanian, on my blog: https://reinviat.ro/ultima-obligatie-in-europa-sa-mori-la-timp/