“Jason”, forty-one, was diagnosed with prostate cancer six years prior. He was quite young for such a diagnosis, but it was discovered he had a genetic component in catching this disease. Jason had been living with his disease without much distraction until this past year when symptoms started to strongly appear.
Jason’s parents and sister lived nearby. It was a small, but very supportive family. Jason had been in a slow decline for several months, but still able to continue to teach his science classes at the nearby university.
His disease abruptly came on so aggressively these past few days. The hospice nurse went out late last night to admit Jason to our program. Jason was sitting up and able to understand our program and sign all of the paperwork.
The hospice nurse and I went out this morning to complete the admission by more thoroughly educated Jason and his family on hospice’s support. When we walked into the home, Mom hugged me so tightly and just cried. Jason was lying in the front bedroom in a hospital bed. It was so clear that he was imminent. He was breathing so strongly while unresponsive. His parents and sister were lovingly close by.
What struck my heart was their actions. No words were spoken but one could so easily see their tremendous grief. Mom was lying her head on Jason’s bed while cupping her hands onto her face. There were no words left to say.
We wanted to give them the support that no one can give as their grief was so appropriately strong. The nurse and I left after two hours, but struggled with leaving. I was surprised to hear how quickly he died, but then, on the other hand, was not surprised at all. Jason so truly did it his way.
FIVE MINUTES
He was diagnosed six years ago.
Quite young for such a cancer diagnosis.
He has been through tremendous treatments,
but overall, had been doing quite well.
He was still able to work as a professor;
teaching science at the university nearby.
He lived alone, but his family helped out
supporting him as he slowly declined.
The last twenty-four hours have been hard.
His decline has come on so abruptly.
He signed onto hospice late last night,
but this morning, easily noticeable, he didn’t have long.
We went out to support his family;
while tears appropriately flowed.
Mom agonizingly shared, “This is so out of order.
No parent should ever attend their child’s funeral.”
The nurse educated them on what to expect,
while I supported them with their grief.
We stayed with them for over two hours.
It was still so hard for us to leave.
We left the house shortly after twelve
knowing another nurse would be coming by soon.
Five minutes later, he took his last breath.
He was patiently waiting for us to go.
He wanted to say goodbye to his family alone.
It would be his perfect time to let go.
The unconditional love his family had offered to him,
he so beautifully gave back to them in return.
Five minutes was all that he needed
to give his family his final goodbye.
He knew it was his time to go.
He just needed the perfect moment
to peacefully let go;
to lovingly say goodbye.
