A hospice story

It is in that one memorable moment of that sigh, that most gentle, almost soundless last breath taken by a loved one when time stands still, allowing you to process this significant event - the departure of a loved one.

It was not a surprise, as there were metaphors spoken mere hours before that moment about a journey, about where the boarding passes were or wondering if a coat was necessary as it may be chilly.

You take a quick breath and ponder: was there anything more you could’ve done?

If what you had done – and if what this hospice had done – were the things that you felt were of the utmost importance to ease your loved one’s last days.

Was there the respect, compassion and kindness to the very last moment? Was the care dedicated enough to make the last days of life comfortable, meaningful, dignified?

You evaluate the last few weeks and the time leading up to this moment.

You recall surfing the Web for something other than a hospital for the last days of your loved one.

You realize that hospitals are for the living as they are hectic and often chaotic at times, and not the place to go to die.

You don’t have any room in your own residence what with kids, spouse, visitors, dogs, general chaos. What else is there?

What is this hospice thing?

You learn that a hospice is a place to care for those who are at their end-of-life phase. A place that is personal, a temporary home, a comfortable place, a calm place.

The care offered would challenge even the best of families caring for their loved ones.

It is a place of transitions, of the ending of one life, and the beginning of altered lives.

There is compassion and understanding, and you feel good about it. You feel confident that you have done all that you can as this place offered what you could not.

You have a job, you worry about college tuitions, mortgage, and other bills that somehow always find you, but this place saved you.

But it also “saved” your loved one by allowing one to embark on that last journey with love, dignity and respect.

Your mind races through your own experience interfacing with the hospice both physically and virtually through the magic of technology in the days before this event.

The staff were friendly, caring, knowledgeable, calming.

The volunteers were caring and compassionate, almost as if your extended family.

As a thousand things cross your mind, your gaze returns to your loved one, and you now become aware that the cat is still sleeping there on the bed beside your loved one, purring, comfortable, peaceful, seemingly unaware that the most significant person in its life is no longer.

But is it unaware? The cat stirs slightly, raising its head and opening its eyes to look directly at you.

Yes, it does know, and acknowledges that you are now the most important person in its life and somehow understands too that this was a good death.

Thank you, it seems to convey. Yes, I did what I could and I am happy for it.

This is a tale of what it could be like in a modern residential- style hospice in Digby.

The Order of Saint Lazarus, combined with the Atalanta Hospice Society, started a project to establish a five-to-10-bed hospice in Digby.

This project is a community project and therefore our community needs to become actively engaged to help make this happen through their donations of funds and/or time.

This project is in its embryonic phase, having started in September 2017 with a core of dedicated and compassionate people, all of them members of the Order.

We need more people to join the ranks of the Order, and to donate funds to make this project become a reality.

Please take a moment and give the gift of kindness and compassion by donating to www.stlazarus.ca/acadia/atalantahospicesociety

David M. Cvet Smith’s Cove