What Dragonfly Can Teach Us About Care, Independence and Human Connection
What Dragonfly Can Teach Us About Care, Independence and Human Connection
Sometimes a television drama can make us stop and think about something that statistics, policies and reports simply can't.
That is exactly what Dragonfly did for me.
The ITV drama, starring Brenda Blethyn, Andrea Riseborough and Jason Watkins, tells the story of Elsie, an older woman living alone following a fall that has significantly reduced her independence. Her son arranges care visits to support her, but the care she receives is portrayed as rushed and impersonal.
Then her neighbour, Colleen, begins to step in.
What starts as a simple act of kindness develops into an unexpected friendship and a relationship that gives both women something they are missing: connection.
And this is where I think Dragonfly gives us all something important to think about.
Care is about more than the task
In the care sector, we quite rightly talk about safeguarding, medication, personal care, risk assessments, training, policies and compliance.
All of these things matter.
But there is another part of care that can sometimes be much harder to measure.
How does that person feel when you leave?
- Have they been listened to?
- Have they had a conversation?
- Have they been encouraged to do something for themselves rather than having it automatically done for them?
- Have they been treated as an individual rather than simply another visit on a rota?
The film portrays Elsie's world becoming smaller following her fall. Things that many of us take for granted become difficult. Her home, which should be her place of comfort and independence, becomes increasingly challenging to navigate.
And yet, what seems to make the biggest difference isn't necessarily another task being completed.
It is someone sitting with her.
Talking to her.
Helping her.
Taking an interest.
Making her feel that she still matters.
Independence doesn't mean doing everything alone
One of the things that really stood out to me is the importance of maintaining independence for as long as possible.
There can sometimes be a tendency, when someone becomes older or less physically able, to assume that the answer is to simply do things for them.
But good support should ask:
"What can this person still do?"
Rather than:
"What can I do for them?"
There is a huge difference.
Sometimes the right support might be helping someone prepare a meal rather than preparing it entirely for them.
It might be accompanying someone on a walk rather than telling them they shouldn't go out.
It might be helping someone organise their shopping rather than taking complete control.
It might simply be sitting down with someone for an hour, having a cup of tea and allowing them to talk.
Those seemingly small things can be incredibly important.
Loneliness is a form of vulnerability too
Dragonfly also highlights something that we don't always talk about enough: loneliness.
Someone can live in a busy community, have neighbours nearby and have family members who care about them, and still be incredibly lonely.
And loneliness doesn't always look like someone saying, "I'm lonely."
Sometimes it looks like someone who rarely leaves the house.
Someone who watches the same television programmes every day.
Someone who doesn't have anyone to talk to.
Someone who has lost confidence following a fall.
Someone who simply doesn't have much to look forward to.
That is why community support can be so valuable.
Sometimes one hour of meaningful human contact can be just as important to someone's wellbeing as the practical support that happens alongside it.
But there is another important message in Dragonfly
I don't think the message of this film should be that informal support is always better than professional care.
Quite the opposite.
The story also demonstrates why vulnerable people need the right support, appropriate boundaries and people around them who understand safeguarding.
The relationship between Elsie and Colleen becomes increasingly complicated, and the film takes a much darker turn.
That is important too.
Kindness matters. But so do boundaries, safeguarding, professional accountability and knowing when someone needs more support than a neighbour, friend or family member can safely provide.
Good care isn't about choosing between humanity and professionalism.
It should be about bringing the two together.
What can we learn from this?
For me, the biggest message is simple.
Don't just see the care plan. See the person.
Behind every package of care is someone's mum, dad, grandmother, grandfather, husband, wife, brother, sister or friend.
They have lived a life.
They have worked.
They have raised families.
They have had careers, hobbies, relationships, ambitions and experiences.
Becoming older or needing support doesn't take any of that away.
And needing help doesn't mean someone has stopped wanting choice, dignity, independence and companionship.
At GO, this is one of the reasons we are so passionate about community support.
Our aim is not simply to arrive, complete a list of tasks and leave.
Where appropriate, support can be about helping someone remain connected to their community, encouraging independence, providing companionship, supporting everyday activities and giving families reassurance that someone has spent meaningful time with their loved one.
Sometimes that might be helping someone get out for a coffee.
Sometimes it might be supporting them with shopping.
Sometimes it might be accompanying them to an appointment.
Sometimes it might simply be sitting in their home, having a cup of tea and talking.
And sometimes, that one hour can make a much bigger difference than we realise.
Perhaps that is what Dragonfly asks us to consider
What would happen if we stopped asking only:
"What care does this person need?"
And started asking:
"What does this person need to continue living a life that feels like their own?"
Because care should not simply be about keeping someone safe.
It should also be about helping people feel seen, heard, valued and as independent as possible for as long as possible.
And perhaps that is something we can all take away from Dragonfly — whether we work in care, have an elderly relative, are supporting a neighbour, or simply happen to know someone who is becoming a little more isolated.
Notice people.
Talk to people.
Listen to people.
And never underestimate the difference that a little bit of time, kindness and human connection can make.
Sarah Osborne, Owner and Director of GO Personnel
Sometimes a television drama can make us stop and think about something that statistics, policies and reports simply can't.


