HOW CAN YOU?

I have worked in hospice for over fifteen years. The rewards are so amazing as each day we get told that we made a difference today. Often we get asked, “How can you do this work?” I believe that most ask as they remember their grief when a loved one of theirs died. When someone you love is on hospice, your emotions are so strong while you feel such pain. It is hard to function as oftentimes one can feel overwhelmed. I have had family and a few friends on hospice and my first reaction is always, “What can I do?” I didn’t know what the first step was, even though I work in this field. Emotions are so powerful.

It does take a lot of heart to do this work, but the rewards are so amazing. The look of relief on faces or those special thank you words make it all worthwhile. We all can see and feel what is coming in, but do not see what we give out. In hospice, we get told frequently how much we helped just by being there and listening to their words.

We had “Tom” scheduled to open to hospice today. Tom’s wife, “Valerie”, called hospice early this morning to say that Tom had died last night. I gave Valerie a call to offer condolences and support. I listened to her story about Tom and their family. There are several young grandchildren who are also grieving their grandpa. I educated her on children’s grief and shared some ways to give them support.

At the end of our conversation was when I knew I made a difference to her by what she said. Our phone conversation is a perfect example of why I can do hospice. It is my life’s mission as I often think, “How can I not continue to do this work?” I am so honored and blessed.


HOW CAN YOU?

We get asked frequently,
"How can you do what you do?
Don't you get depressed?
It must be so hard on you."

We meet the most amazing people
who welcome us into their homes
to share such intimate moments
while gratefully thanking us.

The rewards are a thousand-fold,
hearing you made a difference today.
“Thank you for listening to us.
Thank you for your care.”

We were scheduled to open him to hospice today.
I called her knowing he died last night.
She spoke about her experience; her grief.
“As sad as it is, we were gifted at the opportunity
to share our feelings with him.”

I validated her emotions; I normalized her grief.
It was humbling as I know I made a difference when she said,
“You are an amazing person.
Your words are magical.”

The rewards are a thousand-fold,
knowing they too made a difference today.
As we can also say to them,
“Thank you for listening to us.
Thank you for your care.” 

TWO SOULS

I first met "Marian", 95, three weeks ago. I did a visit for another Social Worker to help out. The moment Marian answered the door, there was a sudden connection between us. We were instantly talking before we even sat down in her living room. She is such a sweetheart. She has such a positive attitude about life and laughs so easily.

Marian shared many life stories about her life and family. During it all, she would always have a broad smile showing. I so understood how she thought about life experiences as I process thoughts the same way. The two of us shared that connection. It is always such a gift to meet someone so much like you.

I did a second visit this afternoon. The sudden bonding was still there and wonderful. I hope I will be able to see her again in order to spend time with such a special lady. I have to look at life as, "If it is meant to be, it will be." But, on the other hand, I would love to hear more of her life stories. She is a wonderful story teller. Gifts from above.


TWO SOULS

We know instantly when we meet them.
Easily understanding spoken thoughts.
A spiritual link bringing us together.
A sudden connection between two souls.

She's twenty-five years my senior.
She speaks about life experiences;
Pearl Harbor; the depression;
events way before my time.

But age does not matter at all.
It is not the events or the times.
It is the processing of those experiences
that we both clearly understand.

She's had some hard times during her life,
but she will share life stories with a broad smile.
She'll laugh so easily when talking about her sons;
the good, the bad, the funny, the memories.

I sure wish we met earlier in our lives.
I wish she lived next door.
But life brings us those things when we need them.
I will always cherish and always remember
          the connection of
                       our two souls. 

DEMENTIA

Dementia is such an unpleasant disease. I can only imagine the emotions that sprout forth when told of the diagnosis; when you understand what will be happening to your brain. “John”, ninety-three, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s eight years ago. He has been in a recent decline and it was then, that his doctor made a hospice referral.

We met John and his daughter in a visiting room at the facility where John has lived for four years. John did not understand who we were or why we were there. The first thing I noticed was how happy he appeared. His daughter, “Amanda”, was so attentive to her father. John would ask Amanda about the athletic pants she was wearing and then would laugh. She would respond, “Do you want a pair?” Both of them would laugh so hard. It was wonderful to see.

This family was a joy to be with as John and Amanda had us all laughing throughout the visit. It was a blessing that John did not understand what was happening. That is the one gift that Alzheimer’s can give folks; no memory of how much they have lost. I know John will continue to laugh, and keep others laughing, as long as he can. God bless you John.


DEMENTIA

He's lost a lot of his memory,
but his wide smile still remains.
No matter what topic of conversation,
his laugh will permeate the room.

Dementia slowly robs one's memory.
Day by day, bit by bit.
One's reality may become distorted;
their truth known only to them.

You could tell he had a great sense of humor.
He was witty in his own way.
His laugh was so contagious;
with humorous sarcasm shining through.

I asked his daughter about his faith.
Would he like a chaplain to stop in?
She said he was a lifelong Mormon.
For ninety years he lived his faith.

Recently though, things have changed.
His faith has taken a dramatic turn;
as three years ago he adamantly proclaimed,
          “Enough of that!”

He made us all laugh,
like he's been doing all of his life.
Dementia may have robbed him blind,
but it kindly left him one wondrous gift;
          his humor. 

BOOKENDS

"Russ", sixty, was diagnosed with cancer five months ago. He found out last week that his cancer has now spread to his bones. In the past few weeks, he has become much weaker and needing more help. Russ spends a lot of time in bed because of his weakness. He has had a poor appetite and is focused on eating better and getting stronger in order to be able to sit outside in the sun.

Russ has been a successful painter and singer throughout his career. His art gives him much joy. His face lights up when talking about his art or sharing photos of his paintings.

Russ's life has changed dramatically since this recent diagnosis, but nothing gets him down. He has a very positive outlook on his life. He spoke of many past achievements and future goals. His goals are simple, but important to him. He has no regrets or unfinished business. He left us all smiling as we walked out to the car after the visit. What an honor to have met such an amazing individual.


BOOKENDS
　
His gift is his creativity.
Watercolors, opera, paint and song.
He's made a long career doing what he loves;
living a life, joyfully, his way.

He just found out his cancer is terminal.
The doctors told him just three months.
He wants to get strong to sit outside.
His goals are small; but important to him.

He has no fears about dying.
His spirituality is his art.
Egyptian beliefs, centuries old.
Death is energy; nothing more.

He sang in an opera at age ten.
A highlight in his young life.
Three months ago singing again
in a much larger operatic production.

His last hurrah.
Going out with a bang.
"My life has been opera bookends
          at the beginning
                   and at the end."