My hospice patient passed away last Saturday. I had been seeing her since April. For 4 months I was a part of this woman's life. I entered her home every week and read her favorite book to her, Anne of Green Gables. I listened to her stories, of all the events that made up her life. I got to know her during one of the most vulnerable times in her life and she welcomed me with a smile each time and bid me farewell with a kiss on my hand each time I left.
Hospice is unique that way. Unlike volunteering at a soup kitchen or at your local shelter, you aren't left to wonder about the people you helped. You don't get to imagine that their life took a different turn and they are now out in the world living a full life. In hospice you know the ending. You get that phone call or that email that tells you without any uncertainty that the final chapter in this volume of their existence has been written. There is no wondering...about this life anyway.
But hospice is unique in another way as well, you get to see life and death in all it's glory, pain, and passion. You realize that death, while permanent in someways is merely a thin sheen painted over our eyes. Their memories and their energy live on in everything they did and everyone they knew. From a smile offered to a neighbor to the kind word offered to a weary stranger. Those small moments are our legacy. It is not only through our family and friends that we continue on, but through the seemingly insignificant events thy touch others and inspire them to do the same.
I am deeply touched by Mrs. P and her daughter for welcoming me into their lives and giving me the wonderful gift that was getting to know them and hopefully contributing to their lives. Thank you.
