You Are Not Alone in Hospice Care
It was a cold, rainy Thursday evening, and I had been working all day. I live on the other side of town, so it would be useless to go home before I was expected back. Instead, I sat in my cold car and charted to pass time until the services began. It wasn’t my first Suncrest Hospice Service of Remembrance. I had attended one last spring and it had been good for me then. I knew it would be good for me to go again, as a helpful way to both remember the value and process the weight of what we all do every day. As a Spiritual Care Coordinator in Hospice, I love what I do, and I can’t help but get attached to certain folks. I remember all of them, those I saw only once as well as those I visited and cared for month after month or, in some cases, even years.
The gathering was small that night. I didn’t feel like socializing with my colleagues. I sat alone so I could focus and just be present. When the service started, I looked to my left to see a sweet woman and her son. I recognized them immediately. Their husband and father had died a few months back and, in an instant, I remembered the entire day. I remembered the caring nurse who came to do what she could for him. I remembered sensing the change in his breathing, inviting this soon-to-be-widow to pull her chair up closer, to hold her husband’s hand. I remembered that she did this and, while she held his hand tenderly in her own, he took his last breath. I remembered feeling grateful that he wasn’t alone, and neither was she. Now she was sitting there, down the pew from me, with her only son by her side. But they were not alone. None of us there were. The power of that thought warmed me like it had in the past. In hospice, we work as a team. It is the essence of our approach for how we care for our patients. We are all different yet essential pieces of a person’s care team, which includes the strong, foundational support of those team members who bring their hearts and souls to their duties at our office, and never experience the hands-on caregiving. Each of us plays a crucial role. None of us does this work alone.
“But they were not alone. None of us there were. The power of that thought warmed me like it had in the past.”
That night, we joined together to remember each by name. Each one. Each encounter. Each family. Each home. Each complex situation where we entered, brought a little peace, and left a piece of ourselves. I allowed myself to remember and feel the beauty in all of it: the sacredness alongside the challenges; the sadness alongside the relief; and the tears which accompanied so many prayers.
“I allowed myself to remember and feel the beauty in all of it…”
I hadn’t really wanted to put in a 13-hour day, to be honest, but I did it anyway. And I was glad I did. As I stood and turned to leave, another widow, whom I also immediately remembered, approached me. In a flash I could recall her devotion, her daily visits, her forgiveness of the past, and her courage to face the impending death of her beloved. She stood before me, emotional and speechless. I reached out to offer an embrace. We both shed some tears, maybe of relief that more than one person would remember her husband. She was not alone. I was not alone. We were all there for each other, to share in the inevitable grief and pain, but also the joys and memories, during this meaningful time to celebrate the way these people changed, and continue to change, our lives.
I really didn’t feel like going, but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, because this is my world. And for this, I am grateful.
Sold Out hospice stories on our hospice blog
Please feel free to contact us with any questions regarding hospice care
