Saying Goodbye to Gloria

Early this morning my first Hospice patient, "Gloria," died peacefully in her sleep. I know this is the natural outcome of most Hospice stays, but it's my first experience with the death of a resident. I'm glad I had those four visits with her during training and then as a supervised volunteer...but I so wish I had had one last visit. In fact, my husband and I were called a few days ago to volunteer either last night or tonight, and by the time we responded, only tonight was still open. We'll be there with only one resident, who no doubt will be sound asleep, as we have the last shift of the evening. I can't tell a lie, this is hard for me. It's my faith tradition to believe that Gloria is in a better place now. I was lucky in that the last time I sat with her, we had a lively conversation about Thanksgiving Dinner. She was in and out of our reality; at one point she asked me how many people were coming (I said 6), how we should cook the turkey (I vetoed the pressure cooker), and if dinner would be held "here." In class later that week, I asked the instructors if it's OK to go with the reality of the dying...they said yes...so Gloria and I had planned a feast for either the past or the future...perhaps for both. Time seems very elastic for the dying. It is hard to say goodbye. Even though I only knew Gloria for a brief while, we took comfort in each other's presence. She tolerated my singing (for the most part), and I held her hand while she dropped off to sleep. As a Hospice volunteer, I know this pattern will repeat itself over and over again. I only hope that I can be fully present, be engaged, and then be able to step away as each person makes their final journey. Good bye, Gloria. May your Thanksgiving feast be a beautiful one.