The hospice house is a homey place that receives patients whose life expectancy does not exceed 6 months.
Usually patients are close to their last days when they are admitted. They need intensive care so they can be as comfortable as possible: getting their pain under control, helping with their breathing… Most patients expire in the days following their admission.
There are many things I cannot accomplish here – and realizing it has been instrumental to lighten the initial apprehension.
What I cannot do: I cannot cure those patients. I cannot dissipate the sorrow of their loved ones. What I can do: be with them. Listen to their stories, if they want to share it. Reflect with them on the meaning of their journey. Pray with them if they so wish. And be there for those two most important moments there is, two moments mentioned in the “Hail Mary” prayer that I learned as a Catholic child: “pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death”. This is not much – and yet it is essential.
Sometimes, I am reminded of an airport when I think of the hospice house. “the passenger for the destination to beyond is expected for immediate departure…”
Sometimes, I think of a bridge. A bridge toward a place so often imagined and yet totally unfamiliar. We help the travelers to cross the bridge, we support their families.
One afternoon, I was helping the son of a patient who had passed in our presence a few hours earlier – we were carrying his belonging to his car. He had slept in his father’s room for the few last nights. While walking by him, I suddenly realized that this was like the work I was doing here: accompany the patients and their loved ones and help them carry their baggage.
This is not much – and yet essential.
