Later this week, it will have been a year that I was admitted into the hospital for a ruptured appendix. While in the emergency room, I had an “out-of-body” experience. I almost died that day, but felt it wasn’t my time while standing outside heaven’s gate. The entire experience of being in the hospital 19 days and fully recovering from such a critical diagnosis, while getting a peek of the other side, has been life changing.
Feeling the love of so many is what has stayed with me. I have always had so many that I care about and have known that so many care back to me as well. But living the reality of that support has reached another amazing level. This experience has brought up so many questions with no answers for me. Why did I experience this? What do I need to do with this?
I have always been one to follow my heart and have been sharing my incredible story when it felt right to do so. I have had so many remarkable experiences with sharing my story. I have come to terms that likely I don’t need to know why or what to do with it. I feel that the story needs to be shared. I trust that feeling, so that is what I do.
The hospice nurse and I went to the same hospital today to admit a new patient to our service. While walking into the hospital and experiencing the familiar environment, memories came flooding back. I have such mixed emotions of amazement, blessings and astonishment. That experience was one of the toughest things I have ever had to go through, but the love and support is what stays with me. It might be what others with Post Traumatic Stress Disease (PTSD) experience, although I feel I have PTBD, (Post Traumatic Blessed Disease).
I feel blessed to have had this experience even with all of the fear and pain. I wouldn’t change a thing. It has changed my life in so many amazing ways. I thank God each and every day for stretching me to a higher awakening.
ALMOST A YEAR
It has been almost a year
since I saw the other side.
Fall was in the air,
when God blessed me with divine.
It’s been an amazing year.
Sharing my story with so many.
Trying to comfort with my experience.
Needing to enlighten and reveal.
I still am trying to process things,
while attempting to stay in the flow.
Sharing the story when my heart directs.
Not knowing what else to do with it all.
I walked those same hospital halls today.
The first time in almost a year.
All the emotions have flooded back;
the amazement; the blessings; the fears.
I am still not sure why I got a small peak;
a glimpse of the other side.
Maybe one day I will understand,
but for now, I will continue to share,
as that’s all that I know,
like I have been doing
for almost a year.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Saturday, October 18, 2014
"I AM DONE"
“Doris”, ninety-four, was widowed six weeks ago after a seventy-three year marriage. Doris suffers from Alzheimer’s Disease. Although forgetful, Doris is still very much aware. The hospice nurse and I met with Doris and her daughter, “Kendra” to open Doris to hospice. Doris has been in a recent decline to where she is only eating bites of food each day. Doris is getting weak and spends most of her days in bed.
Kendra shared that her mother has been depressed for years, but things have exacerbated since her father died. Her father was sick for only a short time before he died. He had been so active in the assisted living community where now just Doris resides. He also had been Doris’s caretaker.
For most of the visit, Doris sat with us at the kitchen table with her eyes closed. She had her head hung down as if she were sleeping. Doris heard every word we said, as with the mention of her husband’s name, she would open her eyes and smile. Doris didn’t talk much, but would always articulate a few words when speaking of her husband.
Kendra cannot completely grieve the loss of her father due to mom’s need for help and attention. Kendra lives about ninety minutes away and stays overnight every Monday to help out. Kendra has hired twenty-four hour attendant care to be with Doris.
Kendra is trying to be supportive for Doris, but is struggling with her mother’s decline so close to her father’s death. It is a double hit for Kendra. Kendra puts on a good face for her mother, but her tears do show easily when talking about her father. Fortunately, Kendra has a lot of support from her own family and co-workers. Hospice also has wonderful support to help Kendra and her mother with their individual grief and feelings of loss. I only hope that both Kendra and Doris find their much needed peace.
“I AM DONE”
Her parents were the perfect pair.
Soul mates from the start.
Dad is whom mom lived for;
but now he is gone.
She has always had some depression;
but it was he who kept her strong.
Now she has given up on life,
“I am done.”
She isn’t eating much at all.
She is losing lots of weight.
She spends most days in bed.
“Why can’t I just die?”
Their pain is still raw and deep
as it has only been six weeks.
Mom has given up on life;
while she is trying to just hold on.
Mom’s face shows no emotion;
while her tears easily flow.
She pats mom’s hand in understanding.
She wants to do the right thing;
until
she is done.
Kendra shared that her mother has been depressed for years, but things have exacerbated since her father died. Her father was sick for only a short time before he died. He had been so active in the assisted living community where now just Doris resides. He also had been Doris’s caretaker.
For most of the visit, Doris sat with us at the kitchen table with her eyes closed. She had her head hung down as if she were sleeping. Doris heard every word we said, as with the mention of her husband’s name, she would open her eyes and smile. Doris didn’t talk much, but would always articulate a few words when speaking of her husband.
Kendra cannot completely grieve the loss of her father due to mom’s need for help and attention. Kendra lives about ninety minutes away and stays overnight every Monday to help out. Kendra has hired twenty-four hour attendant care to be with Doris.
Kendra is trying to be supportive for Doris, but is struggling with her mother’s decline so close to her father’s death. It is a double hit for Kendra. Kendra puts on a good face for her mother, but her tears do show easily when talking about her father. Fortunately, Kendra has a lot of support from her own family and co-workers. Hospice also has wonderful support to help Kendra and her mother with their individual grief and feelings of loss. I only hope that both Kendra and Doris find their much needed peace.
“I AM DONE”
Her parents were the perfect pair.
Soul mates from the start.
Dad is whom mom lived for;
but now he is gone.
She has always had some depression;
but it was he who kept her strong.
Now she has given up on life,
“I am done.”
She isn’t eating much at all.
She is losing lots of weight.
She spends most days in bed.
“Why can’t I just die?”
Their pain is still raw and deep
as it has only been six weeks.
Mom has given up on life;
while she is trying to just hold on.
Mom’s face shows no emotion;
while her tears easily flow.
She pats mom’s hand in understanding.
She wants to do the right thing;
until
she is done.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
MEMORIES
Eighty-four year old, “Eddie” suffers from end-stage cardiac disease. Eddie is married to “Victoria”, his wife of sixty years. Eddie and Victoria met when Eddie and his family moved into the neighborhood. Victoria and Eddie were eighteen and twenty-two years old; respectively. Eddie’s family invited Victoria and her family over for cake and coffee. All the family members went except for Victoria as she had been previously invited to a baby shower.
The next day, Eddie showed up at her door with cake and coffee. She was smitten and the two began dating from that day on. Eddie and Victoria moved into their current home over fifty years ago. The home is full of so many mementos and photos. Every spot is covered with old photos of generations of family members. Mixed in between are souvenirs from fishing trips and other vacations.
Eddie and Victoria have two adult sons. The two boys live on the same property in separate houses. Both boys are available as needed to help their mother care for their father. Eddie has declined rapidly these past few months to where he now is bedridden and needing assistance with all of his needs. Victoria, too, has a heart condition and is on oxygen. Her sons are able to help her with any lifting that is needed as well as being available so Victoria can run errands and do the grocery shopping.
When the nurse and I first entered the home, Victoria shed some tears when talking about Eddie dying. She knows it won’t be long as he is eating very little and is so weak. Her face will shift from sadness quickly if you ask her about Eddie’s life. She will light up, sit for a minute, and share several stories. She is so proud of him. It is quite obvious how much she loves him.
When the nurse asked Eddie if he would like a hospital bed, he replied, “No, I want my mate by my side.” Eddie’s only concern is Victoria and Victoria’s only concern is Eddie. They both have been doing something right for sixty years. They are an inspiration. I wish them well.
MEMORIES
Their home is full of memories.
Keepsakes of days now past.
Numerous yellowed photographs;
generations of smiling faces.
She had so many stories to share
of their sixty years as man and wife.
How they met when he moved nearby.
Properties touching by the back fence.
His decline has been swift.
She struggles to let him go.
She’ll tear up knowing it won’t be long.
“The years have gone way too fast”.
Her face lights up when asked about him.
She’ll sit quietly for a moment or two,
then share a story about him, adding,
“He’s such a nice man.”
If you ask him about his worries;
he’ll immediately mention her.
For himself, he says he’s doing okay.
“I’m eighty-four years old.
Nothing scares me.”
The next day, Eddie showed up at her door with cake and coffee. She was smitten and the two began dating from that day on. Eddie and Victoria moved into their current home over fifty years ago. The home is full of so many mementos and photos. Every spot is covered with old photos of generations of family members. Mixed in between are souvenirs from fishing trips and other vacations.
Eddie and Victoria have two adult sons. The two boys live on the same property in separate houses. Both boys are available as needed to help their mother care for their father. Eddie has declined rapidly these past few months to where he now is bedridden and needing assistance with all of his needs. Victoria, too, has a heart condition and is on oxygen. Her sons are able to help her with any lifting that is needed as well as being available so Victoria can run errands and do the grocery shopping.
When the nurse and I first entered the home, Victoria shed some tears when talking about Eddie dying. She knows it won’t be long as he is eating very little and is so weak. Her face will shift from sadness quickly if you ask her about Eddie’s life. She will light up, sit for a minute, and share several stories. She is so proud of him. It is quite obvious how much she loves him.
When the nurse asked Eddie if he would like a hospital bed, he replied, “No, I want my mate by my side.” Eddie’s only concern is Victoria and Victoria’s only concern is Eddie. They both have been doing something right for sixty years. They are an inspiration. I wish them well.
MEMORIES
Their home is full of memories.
Keepsakes of days now past.
Numerous yellowed photographs;
generations of smiling faces.
She had so many stories to share
of their sixty years as man and wife.
How they met when he moved nearby.
Properties touching by the back fence.
His decline has been swift.
She struggles to let him go.
She’ll tear up knowing it won’t be long.
“The years have gone way too fast”.
Her face lights up when asked about him.
She’ll sit quietly for a moment or two,
then share a story about him, adding,
“He’s such a nice man.”
If you ask him about his worries;
he’ll immediately mention her.
For himself, he says he’s doing okay.
“I’m eighty-four years old.
Nothing scares me.”
Saturday, October 4, 2014
CHECKERS
Ninety-seven year old “Olive” suffers from end stage cardiac disease. She has been widowed for years and had been living alone until recently when she moved in with her son and his family. Olive needs help during her day. She uses a walker to get around.
I went out to shadow our chaplain during her visit today. Before the visit, the chaplain told me about Olive and how she loves to play checkers. The chaplain plays three to four games with each weekly visit. Her goal is to get Olive to open up spiritually if and when she needs to do so.
Olive had me from the moment I walked into her home. She had us all laughing with her delightful sense of humor. She will laugh so easily. She loves to tease and just laughs so much harder if you tease her back.
Olive couldn’t wait for the chaplain to set up the checker board. As usual, Olive won all three games. She is so good at Checkers, her family won’t play with her. Olive’s nine year old grandson was visiting. He says he plays with Granny. He added that he wins some of the times.
Olive has so much spunk and energy, I would have guessed her age fifteen years younger than her nine-seven years. She is a gem and a role model for all of us in how to fully enjoy life. There isn’t much that can get her down. Way to go Olive!!!!
CHECKERS
She loves to play checkers.
She’ll beat you most every time.
She laughs when she’s jumps your man,
but equally giggles when you jump hers.
She’ll share life stories while she plays.
Reminiscing about the olden days.
Telling us about when they bought their first home.
The down payment, not money, but an old Packard they owned.
She has a great sense of humor.
Laughing at how she’s going to tease her son.
Knowing he will phone tonight.
Looking forward to his nightly call.
She doesn’t look or act her age.
If one guesses, they likely would be wrong.
She has so much life and energy.
Her mind is as sharp as they come.
She’ll continue to laugh; to share her life.
She’ll continue to play her game.
“Well come on, set up the checker board”,
just like she has for almost all of her
ninety-seven years.
I went out to shadow our chaplain during her visit today. Before the visit, the chaplain told me about Olive and how she loves to play checkers. The chaplain plays three to four games with each weekly visit. Her goal is to get Olive to open up spiritually if and when she needs to do so.
Olive had me from the moment I walked into her home. She had us all laughing with her delightful sense of humor. She will laugh so easily. She loves to tease and just laughs so much harder if you tease her back.
Olive couldn’t wait for the chaplain to set up the checker board. As usual, Olive won all three games. She is so good at Checkers, her family won’t play with her. Olive’s nine year old grandson was visiting. He says he plays with Granny. He added that he wins some of the times.
Olive has so much spunk and energy, I would have guessed her age fifteen years younger than her nine-seven years. She is a gem and a role model for all of us in how to fully enjoy life. There isn’t much that can get her down. Way to go Olive!!!!
CHECKERS
She loves to play checkers.
She’ll beat you most every time.
She laughs when she’s jumps your man,
but equally giggles when you jump hers.
She’ll share life stories while she plays.
Reminiscing about the olden days.
Telling us about when they bought their first home.
The down payment, not money, but an old Packard they owned.
She has a great sense of humor.
Laughing at how she’s going to tease her son.
Knowing he will phone tonight.
Looking forward to his nightly call.
She doesn’t look or act her age.
If one guesses, they likely would be wrong.
She has so much life and energy.
Her mind is as sharp as they come.
She’ll continue to laugh; to share her life.
She’ll continue to play her game.
“Well come on, set up the checker board”,
just like she has for almost all of her
ninety-seven years.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
RESIGNED
Sixty-six year old, “Diane” suffers from colon cancer that has spread to her bones. Diane is divorced and had been living in Connecticut, where she grew up. Her only family is her brother, “Hank”, who lives in California. Diane moved to California several months ago to be near her brother, who is her primary support.
Diane has moved into a Residential Care Facility, which offers the twenty-four care that she needs. Shortly after Diane moved to California, she broke her hip. The cancer has spread to her bones, making them weak. Diane went through some physical therapy and was slowly getting stronger. A few weeks ago, she took a fall and fractured her left arm. Since that time, Diane spends her days in a wheelchair.
Meeting with Diane for the first time today, she had us laughing so easily with her wit and sarcastic humor. She is so easy going and accepting of what is happening to her. She has had so many dramatic changes these past few months. Diane just takes things in stride. She doesn’t look at what she has lost, but what she has.
Diane and Hank have a wonderful, close relationship. They spoke about what a small family they are and how special each is to the other. One can easily see it through their interaction with each other.
Diane easily spoke about her dying and her wishes to donate her body to science. Things were so matter-of-fact to her. Diane accepts each challenge that comes her way with such grace. She is an amazing role model to us all.
RESIGNED
She has resigned herself to her fate.
She’s adjusted to all the changes.
She is realistic about how things are;
knowing she’s in a decline.
Moving from one coast to the other.
Leaving behind her friends and her home.
Needing to be closer to her brother.
She takes it all in stride.
Her bones are weakened from the cancer.
She’s fractured her hip and now her arm;
both limiting her abilities profoundly.
Dependent upon so many throughout her days.
She talks quite openly about the changes.
She knows things are only to get worse.
She has no fears and just goes along;
wanting you to do the same.
She has always used humor to cope.
She’ll tease; she’ll laugh; she’ll share a joke.
“This is just the way things are.”
Looking forward to one more day.
Diane has moved into a Residential Care Facility, which offers the twenty-four care that she needs. Shortly after Diane moved to California, she broke her hip. The cancer has spread to her bones, making them weak. Diane went through some physical therapy and was slowly getting stronger. A few weeks ago, she took a fall and fractured her left arm. Since that time, Diane spends her days in a wheelchair.
Meeting with Diane for the first time today, she had us laughing so easily with her wit and sarcastic humor. She is so easy going and accepting of what is happening to her. She has had so many dramatic changes these past few months. Diane just takes things in stride. She doesn’t look at what she has lost, but what she has.
Diane and Hank have a wonderful, close relationship. They spoke about what a small family they are and how special each is to the other. One can easily see it through their interaction with each other.
Diane easily spoke about her dying and her wishes to donate her body to science. Things were so matter-of-fact to her. Diane accepts each challenge that comes her way with such grace. She is an amazing role model to us all.
RESIGNED
She has resigned herself to her fate.
She’s adjusted to all the changes.
She is realistic about how things are;
knowing she’s in a decline.
Moving from one coast to the other.
Leaving behind her friends and her home.
Needing to be closer to her brother.
She takes it all in stride.
Her bones are weakened from the cancer.
She’s fractured her hip and now her arm;
both limiting her abilities profoundly.
Dependent upon so many throughout her days.
She talks quite openly about the changes.
She knows things are only to get worse.
She has no fears and just goes along;
wanting you to do the same.
She has always used humor to cope.
She’ll tease; she’ll laugh; she’ll share a joke.
“This is just the way things are.”
Looking forward to one more day.
Saturday, September 20, 2014
PAIN
“Randy”, fifty-eight, suffers from lung cancer. His cancer has now spread to his bones causing him tremendous pain. Randy lives with his sister, “Pamela” , who is his primary caretaker. Randy’s brother, “Bill”, lives nearby and is also very involved. The three siblings are very close and supportive to each other.
Randy’s pain started to increase several days ago. Pamela called his doctor, who changed the medication, to no avail. Randy’s pain continued to where he was not sleeping at night, keeping Pamela up as well. All were so tired and frustrated. Pamela felt so guilty not being able to do anything for her brother. She was frustrated by his doctor as the changes in the medication was not helping. Things were getting worse. Pamela then called hospice for help.
Fortunately the nurse was able to go out the same day Pamela called. Being new at the hospice, I was able to shadow the nurse during the visit. One immediately saw Randy’s suffering and pain by the tight grimace on his face. Pamela’s face reflected her brother’s stressful expression.
The nurse immediately called the hospice medical director and got orders for higher dosages of medications. Before too long, Randy’s pain subsided. Randy initially gave his pain level a “10”, the highest ranking number. By the time we left the home, Randy’s pain was down to a tolerable “2”. Randy was able to close his eyes and sleep for the first time in several days.
Pamela’s face also reflected relief and calm. Pamela couldn’t thank us enough for being there and giving her and her family the support they needed. As the nurse and I walked out to her car, Randy’s brother called out in thanks again. We encouraged the family to call hospice with any other pain changes or questions. It is a good feeling to give a family exactly what they need. Kudos to the hospice nurse and doctor.
PAIN
He has been in pain for days.
Long waits for the doctors to call.
Tweaking medications with no relief.
They were desperate as to what to do.
One saw his discomfort
by the tight grimace on his face.
Sitting stiffly in his recliner;
clutched fists by his side.
The nurse immediately called the doctor.
She helped to readily adjust the meds.
Quickly upping the dosages.
Hoping to ease his tremendous pain.
She hated to see her brother in pain.
“This has been going on for days.”
Her helplessness; her stress
clearly showing in the tightness of her face.
His pain started to decline.
He felt relief for the first time in days.
His face relaxed as he slowly fell asleep.
His sister’s face now reflecting his own.
They thanked us as we walked to the car.
Knowing his suffering will be no more.
A good night sleep for the first time in days.
Grateful for all that the nurse had done,
“I didn’t know an angel drove a tan SUV”.
Randy’s pain started to increase several days ago. Pamela called his doctor, who changed the medication, to no avail. Randy’s pain continued to where he was not sleeping at night, keeping Pamela up as well. All were so tired and frustrated. Pamela felt so guilty not being able to do anything for her brother. She was frustrated by his doctor as the changes in the medication was not helping. Things were getting worse. Pamela then called hospice for help.
Fortunately the nurse was able to go out the same day Pamela called. Being new at the hospice, I was able to shadow the nurse during the visit. One immediately saw Randy’s suffering and pain by the tight grimace on his face. Pamela’s face reflected her brother’s stressful expression.
The nurse immediately called the hospice medical director and got orders for higher dosages of medications. Before too long, Randy’s pain subsided. Randy initially gave his pain level a “10”, the highest ranking number. By the time we left the home, Randy’s pain was down to a tolerable “2”. Randy was able to close his eyes and sleep for the first time in several days.
Pamela’s face also reflected relief and calm. Pamela couldn’t thank us enough for being there and giving her and her family the support they needed. As the nurse and I walked out to her car, Randy’s brother called out in thanks again. We encouraged the family to call hospice with any other pain changes or questions. It is a good feeling to give a family exactly what they need. Kudos to the hospice nurse and doctor.
PAIN
He has been in pain for days.
Long waits for the doctors to call.
Tweaking medications with no relief.
They were desperate as to what to do.
One saw his discomfort
by the tight grimace on his face.
Sitting stiffly in his recliner;
clutched fists by his side.
The nurse immediately called the doctor.
She helped to readily adjust the meds.
Quickly upping the dosages.
Hoping to ease his tremendous pain.
She hated to see her brother in pain.
“This has been going on for days.”
Her helplessness; her stress
clearly showing in the tightness of her face.
His pain started to decline.
He felt relief for the first time in days.
His face relaxed as he slowly fell asleep.
His sister’s face now reflecting his own.
They thanked us as we walked to the car.
Knowing his suffering will be no more.
A good night sleep for the first time in days.
Grateful for all that the nurse had done,
“I didn’t know an angel drove a tan SUV”.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
"TIL WE MEET AGAIN"
Today was my last day doing hospice visits as tomorrow I will be leaving my job after twenty-four years. I wanted to see three particular patients on this last day. Not because they needed anything from me, but I wanted to let them know how each has touched me with their positive attitudes. Saying goodbye will be the difficult part.
All three count their blessings with a positive spin. That attitude helps everyone around. “Yvonne”, ninety-two, suffers from cardiac disease. She is bedridden and unable to manage any of her needs. Between visits from her large, extended family, she watches her favorite television shows. She does not complain, but will tear up when talking about how blessed she is with such a wonderful family.
“Buddy”, seventy-four, has bile duct cancer. He told me today that he is having more bad days than good. Buddy talked about having no appetite and how much he misses his favorite foods. He will state factually what he has lost, but puts it all “in God’s hands.” His faith is that strong. He, too, has a large, extended, supportive family. He so appreciates any visits by his family, friends or hospice workers. Buddy will light up when someone walks into his home.
“Kevin”, eighty-six, suffers from stomach cancer. He has been in a long, slow decline. He twists everything around and makes jokes about his situation. He doesn’t have fears about dying, although has no belief about afterlife. He is always in a positive mood no matter what.
All three have taught me that attitude is everything. All three have these amazing, supportive families. I told them that their families being around says a lot about their family members, but it also reflects them. I truly believe in Karma. I shared how they each have touched me individually. All three share the same legacy; their unconditional love for mankind.
Next week, I start my new position in another hospice much closer to my home. I know I will continue to be honored doing this work by meeting so many more amazing people who effortlessly share their lives and stories. What a blessing each of them are to all of us.
“TIL WE MEET AGAIN”
I wanted to see each of them,
knowing it was my last time.
I wanted to share how each moved me
in their own and special way.
I spoke about their legacy.
How we will all remember them well.
Their positive spirits; their beautiful souls.
Leaving exceptional footprints as they passed our way.
All three unconditionally count their blessings.
Not in possessions or the jewelry they wear,
but in family; in friends; in relationships.
Teaching all of us what truly matters each day.
It was so hard to say goodbye.
A word sounding much too harsh; too final.
Although both knowing it was coming,
still needing to soften the blow.
People come into our lives for a purpose.
If only for a moment, we can be changed.
I hugged each of them and then walked away;
believing that maybe there will be a time
“Til we meet again.”
All three count their blessings with a positive spin. That attitude helps everyone around. “Yvonne”, ninety-two, suffers from cardiac disease. She is bedridden and unable to manage any of her needs. Between visits from her large, extended family, she watches her favorite television shows. She does not complain, but will tear up when talking about how blessed she is with such a wonderful family.
“Buddy”, seventy-four, has bile duct cancer. He told me today that he is having more bad days than good. Buddy talked about having no appetite and how much he misses his favorite foods. He will state factually what he has lost, but puts it all “in God’s hands.” His faith is that strong. He, too, has a large, extended, supportive family. He so appreciates any visits by his family, friends or hospice workers. Buddy will light up when someone walks into his home.
“Kevin”, eighty-six, suffers from stomach cancer. He has been in a long, slow decline. He twists everything around and makes jokes about his situation. He doesn’t have fears about dying, although has no belief about afterlife. He is always in a positive mood no matter what.
All three have taught me that attitude is everything. All three have these amazing, supportive families. I told them that their families being around says a lot about their family members, but it also reflects them. I truly believe in Karma. I shared how they each have touched me individually. All three share the same legacy; their unconditional love for mankind.
Next week, I start my new position in another hospice much closer to my home. I know I will continue to be honored doing this work by meeting so many more amazing people who effortlessly share their lives and stories. What a blessing each of them are to all of us.
“TIL WE MEET AGAIN”
I wanted to see each of them,
knowing it was my last time.
I wanted to share how each moved me
in their own and special way.
I spoke about their legacy.
How we will all remember them well.
Their positive spirits; their beautiful souls.
Leaving exceptional footprints as they passed our way.
All three unconditionally count their blessings.
Not in possessions or the jewelry they wear,
but in family; in friends; in relationships.
Teaching all of us what truly matters each day.
It was so hard to say goodbye.
A word sounding much too harsh; too final.
Although both knowing it was coming,
still needing to soften the blow.
People come into our lives for a purpose.
If only for a moment, we can be changed.
I hugged each of them and then walked away;
believing that maybe there will be a time
“Til we meet again.”
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