My mom was in hospice care for six months before she died. Once I accepted the reality that my mom needed to be in hospice care I was able to see how much they cared about, not only my mom but me as well The hospice workers did whatever they could to ensure my mom was comfortable and happy in her final months.
The ladies who cared for my mom were kind and caring, patient and gentle. They listened to both of us. I knew I could call them when my mom was in pain. I did many times. Even in the middle of the night. The calm, reassuring voice on the line knew what to do. I was not alone.
When I lived in the nursing home I asked a hospice worker if I could be placed in hospice care. I knew the answer. I was not terminal. I definitely wasn't sick. I told the woman the reason for my request. I saw how gentle, kind, and caring they were when they assisted their residents. I remembered the kindness that had been shown to my mom. There were times when I needed a little extra kindness.
The woman I asked told me that while I was not a candidate for hospice she would be happy to give a hug and talk to me for a minute each time she saw me. She did. She still does when she sees me.
What I learned from my experiences with those who work in hospice care is they do not just treat the disease. They treat the whole person. Working in hospice care is not just a job for those providing care it's a calling. They help to prepare a person who is terminal for their next journey. What an important job that is.
It's almost ten years since my mom died. I will always miss her. I will always remember I will always be grateful.
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