Spirituality In Hospice World

The gentleman was in the active phase of dying, meaning death was imminent. We, humans, are poor predictors of death but as a nurse, I found signs telling me he was near. The family was present and soft music was being played. I held his hand and prayed. I gently massaged his arms and hands. I combed his hair and straightened his sheets. His wife was stoic, impeccably dressed, and beautiful. I noticed she was hesitantly sitting on a chair across the room. She hadn’t approached or touched him in the forty-five minutes I had been there, but she loved this man. I know because she had told me stories of their deep love, their children, and grandchildren. Her eyes twinkled when she spoke of him and the life they had built. Her hesitation sitting in that chair across the room was her fear. She would say, “What do I do? I have never done this before.” I would say that there are no right answers, but that she must do whatever she feels she needs to do. The family continued to speak amongst themselves, but his wife would constantly shift her gaze in his direction even while conversing.

Our chaplain gently knocked on the door and joined in on the visit. I slipped back into the periphery of the room and gave him space to share his talents and gifts. Here was the start of a life-changing experience as a nurse. Our chaplain began praying with the family and the holiness of the room was palpable; it was grace-filled and heavy. After the prayer, he started singing the hymn, “How Great Thou Art.” There was so much love in that room, tears freely fell from all eyes and God was certainly present. The wife was sitting at the edge of her seat, Kleenex in her hand, as the second verse began, she moved ever so cautiously toward the hospital bed. She made a little space to sit next to him on that hospital bed. Lovingly, she held one of his hands in one of hers and brushed his hair back with her other. My emotions took over and I choked back my tears. His breaths slowed, causing hers to quicken, the music stopped, and it was silent. We all looked around the room as he never took another breath. My heart broke and rejoiced at the same time. He had been waiting, waiting for her.

Even months later I think of this day often; Beautiful moments aren’t always defined in the same way. They can have depth and breadth of sorrow. But these are the moments I live for.