Help yourself!

I had a brief visit with one of my new hospice patients, today.

She's still in her home. Though it doesn't look very much like a home. Not as in how you and I would view/describe a typical home.
There were no sofa's, stuffed chairs, walls of photo's, personal items, drapes, carpets, cozy little things to make the room and house say "Welcome! Our family lives here! Come join us for a while.".

No. None of those things were there. Instead ... as too often typical of a home hospice patient... I walked into the main room (what once was the living room), to discover it had become a make-shift hospital room for the patient.

What once probably held many memories of family gatherings. Everyday, and special days, now held the frail being of someone who was clinging to those memories and feelings and people ... as best she could.
She was in a hospital bed - that looked as strange to be in that room, as if it were to be sitting in the middle of a parking lot. It seemed so out of place.

Yet, it served it's purpose. Holding this dear woman as best as a bed could. A bed that could alter and change to serve the purpose of making her day and comfort level easier. (But it didn't. Not really)
She was so frail, and covered with many blankets, none of which covered her fragility.
She could no longer move on her own, or speak on her own. But she could watch. And watch she did! Every move!

She watched me enter. She watched me draw to the side of her bed and warmly introduce myself. Not in baby talk, or elder-speak (as Hospice would put it). I didn't talk "down" to her. Why should I? She's a woman. Deserving of the natural way of conversation as any of us would have.
She knows she's different. Suffering. In need. Dependant.
Yet. She's independent! Independent of her feelings, her thoughts, her desires.
That's where I hoped to meet her at.

I asked if I could trim her hair, as they had called me to ask if I would come and give her a haircut to help freshen her mood.
I'm not licensed to do so, nor am I certified to be a cosmetologist. But, I've trimmed my share of hair over the years, and that's all they wanted done. I was honest with them. They were honest with me. "Yes! Please come!".

So with her smile of approval, and the soft draping of the softest material I had at home, I proceeded to make her comfortable for a little trim. It felt intimate to gently tuck in this soft blue material around her. To comb and sweep her graying hair to reveal where it's natural sway would be.
This stranger to me. And I to her.

We exchanged several smiles, while I snipped a little here a little there. Each time carefully taking the snippets and gently placing them in the nearby trash so they wouldn't land on her, or her bedding, thus making her itch or uncomfortable in any way. It was slow and methodical. And gave me time to truly think about what I was doing.
Cutting hair? No. Not that.

Time to think that I was gently helping someone who couldn't help themselves. And, I weep now ... as I think about how much that actually helped "me".

We all need to search for, and find, what that "helping" thing is we can do. Should do!

We all need it. We think we don't need it until we're in a dire position. But we're wrong. We all need it now. We all need to help one another, now. Simply because we should.

The bible tells of how the "washing of feet" was so important. Was it because of the dirt and dust that would gather on sandled feet? Perhaps.
Or was it simply because it would show us the true love and value of helping and being helped? That is what I now believe.

I finished trimming this wonderful woman's hair. She looked afresh. I ... felt afresh.

My helping her, helped me. *sigh*

When new journeys begin ...

I'm about to begin a new journey.

A new direction in my life, that will add to all the other things, that conforms me into the person I am.

We all have new journeys.

New journeys are always entering our lives.

A new job. A new relationship. A new school. A new baby. A new home. A new diagnosis. A new ... (fill in the blank).

Some we choose. Some are given to us. Some are stumbled upon. Some are prayed for. Some hit us like a bolt of lightning and blindside us. They come in many forms, and many happen during our lives.

All those "new" journeys ... collectively ... become the history of us.

That's an interesting thought to me. The "new" becomes the "history". (Eventually, anyway.)

This new journey of mine is in it's early stages. But I anticipate MUCH from it as time goes on.

It promises to offer me many life lessons. Many blessings to count. Many memories that I will be able to recall when I need their strength, encouragement, peace, clarity, or any number of things that they will offer me.

I have chosen this journey. I wanted it. I feel called to it. I know I'm meant to walk it.

The journey being ... I will be volunteering with a Hospice program.

Hospice is an organization that offers help to dying people. It does NOT help people die. ( A common misconception of their purpose).

If you would like to know more about their philosophy - please ask. I'd be happy to share it with you.

What I've mentioned, briefly above, is that Hospice is care and comfort given to people who are dying and at the end stages of their life - and care and comfort to their family members and loved ones.

I'm in the training program now, and it will continue a few more weeks. After that, I will be working directly with patients and their families.

There is a lot to take in and learn through this training process alone. The philosophy, the purpose, the misconceptions, the physical and spiritual care that goes into helping the patients, friends and family members. And so on...

The training is not something to be rushed, or taken lightly. It's a profound and honorable thing to be part of, and I'm humbled just at the thought that I feel called to be involved.

I know there will be very hard aspects of this. Sad experiences. Heartbreaking moments. Though I don't enter this with a deep wisdom, I enter it with my eye's and heart open to knowing this will be part of the experience.

I've lost several friends and family members through the years - I know the roller coaster of emotions that the final days bring. Perhaps my being able to hold a hand, and simply "know" what that ride is like, will help someone on that ride ... know they are not alone.

It's suggested that we, the volunteers, journalize our journey of working with Hospice.

Since I have journaled for years, and have blogged (even just a few times in the past few months) ... I thought I'd combine all the aspects of this suggestion ... and use this blog as part of my recording the newness, and eventual history, of this hospice journey and it's heart lessons.

I want you to know - I will never disclose anything that would in anyway be able to identify a particular patient, family member or co-worker that I will be working with.

This blog/journal of mine is to reflect my feelings - my insights - my lessons learned - my questions - my heart - all that this journey will offer and teach "me".

To disclose identifiable details of anyone else would be inexcusable, and I promise not to do so.

What I do promise, is that I hope my journey and my recording of it here will inspire your hearts. Strengthen your lives with the lessons that others will be sharing with me - either in their own words, or by their example.

We're all on this journey around the sun - together.

Death is part of life. We share it.

Though hard to embrace it - it can blend into a beautiful sunset time, that will help complete our purpose of this earthbound time we have together.

I don't intend for this blog/journal to be a sad memorial of thoughts. Rather, I want it to be uplifting and honorable to those who make their life stories worth sharing - because they will make us better! Because of who they were!

Please, feel free to share your stories, your thoughts, your lessons learned from this type of journey, too.

Like I said, we're all on this journey around the sun - together.