Prior to volunteering with hospice, I had a limited view of what it meant to be “on hospice.” I believed that hospice was for patients who were restricted to the bed, limited in energy, and nearing their final hours. From my first visits with my patient, Wilma, I realized that hospice care is more than this image I had in mind. Although there are certain requirements for being under hospice care, patients on hospice have a wide range of conditions, but more importantly, they are individuals who deserve attention and thoughtful care. Through my experience, I realized that death is an active process; it is not one point in time, but rather a journey. The reality of death reminds me to remain in the present moment and to be grateful for all of this life, both its tribulations and triumphs.
After a few weeks of difficult visits with my patient, the visit on Valentine’s Day was a joyous time together. Leading up to February 14th, Wilma was showing noticeable decline and was refusing my visits. I would come weekly, but she would either turn me away because she did not feel well, or she would only have me stay for a short time. But on Valentine’s Day, Wilma was delighted to see me. I came through the door with roses since she loved decorating her room with flowers. During this visit, we danced, sang, and had a beautiful conversation about how both she and I were doing. As I left her room that day, she thanked me for being her Valentine and for our lovely time together.
At the time of this beautiful visit, I did not know that it would be our last dance around the room, or our last duet to “Falling in Love with You.” In my following weekly visits, Wilma began to dramatically decline to the point of not being able to verbally communicate with me in her final days. In my last visit before her passing, I recalled our Valentine’s Day and the joy that we shared together. Despite her inability to respond, I could feel a sense of calm and that she could feel my presence. Early the following week in mid-March, I received an email of her passing. The slew of emotions that I felt knowing that Wilma passed away caused me to reflect on death.
From visiting Wilma for six months, I now realize that death is a process, rather than a static moment. Although death can occur suddenly, it often comes slowly, affecting a person overtime. Death often involves pain, uncertainty, anxiety, and anger; yet joy, gratitude, laugher, and happiness are also a part of the process. Death is a unique experience for everyone, but it is a journey that does not have to be experienced alone. Rather, it is one in which health care professionals, family, friends, and volunteers can walk next to the dying person as they prepare to leave this life.
My beautiful Valentine’s Day visit with Wilma serves as a reminder that life is fleeting. When I am overwhelmed with my duties and obligations, I reflect on the importance of being present and truly living “one day at a time.” It is in the everyday moments that we are able to experience the greatest wonders of this life. Serving as a hospice volunteer has invoked a call within me to continue to be present to everything and everyone I encounter. Most importantly, my experience has instilled an awareness in me of the fragility of life and our constant call to serve others with grateful hearts.