"A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling."
(NIV)

This is a blog about widows,
mothers and daughters,
facing change and challenges
and receiving ordinary, everyday blessings that don't seem quite so ordinary anymore.
It chronicles the journey from grief into the restoration of what has been lost.

*** I am no longer actively posting to this site, so please come visit me at my new site ***

http://www.jrrmblog.com/ - "Starting Over ... Again"

Showing posts with label hospice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hospice. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Saying Goodbye with Hospice

We learned a few things about saying goodbye during our short experience with hospice.  The main thing I learned was that no matter how much time you have, it's never as long as you think.  You never believe how quickly the time slips away, even though you have been told how rapidly it will be gone.

Take that time to connect with your loved one where they are emotionally.  If they want to talk about memories, then talk about that.  If they want to have a heart to heart chat about their mortality, don't shy away from that topic.  Be honest and direct.  Tell them what is in your heart, and how they have impacted your life.  Tell them they won't be forgotten, and they mattered to you.  Most of all, let them guide the conversation.  Respond to what they have to share with you.

Robby and I never really got to have these talks.  Because of the tumor he really couldn't talk much from the time it was diagnosed, and it only got worse.  The hardest part was not hearing him say "I love you."  He was one of those guys that would tell me he loved me half a dozen times per day.  He would call to check in with me during the day, and he (we) never hung up the phone or walked out the door without saying we loved each other.  Not hearing that for such a long time, and at some point realizing I would never hear his voice again, was heartbreaking.

As their life draws to a close, people tend to withdraw.  They "close in" and sports, politics or what's on TV in the next room doesn't matter.  All that matters is the immediate, the physical.  I'm hot. I'm cold. I love you.  Do you love me?  Be present with them, and listen.  Be quiet and respond.  Hold their hand and let them know you are there.  That is the best gift you can give them as they die.  To be a witness to their life and their death.  And to make sure they are not forgotten.