I woke up excited. I had the opportunity to facilitate an in service about Touch Awareness in Caregiving to a group of hospice nurses in my favorite hospice.
When I arrived I was told by the Nursing Director that a resident had died the night before. She had been with him all morning as staff and friends had participated in bathing his body and preparing him for his journey from the house.
All staff, including the nurses attending the in service, were asked to participate in the ceremony of departure. The body would be carried out shortly before the in service was scheduled to end, therefore I was asked if I could end a bit earlier than scheduled.
The door bell rang; it was time to come to the dining room for the ceremony.
Once there we formed two lines and a bowl of rose petals appeared. We passed the bowl around and all took a handful of petals. Then we were told the deceased wanted us to sing Amazing Grace.
While singing, two well dressed men came down the stairs slowly carrying a gurney with the deceased gentleman draped in a shroud, bringing attention to the serenity in his face. It could have been the streets of New Orleans!
As they passed through the dining hall between the two lines we sang as we sprinkled rose petals on the body.
There I was looking into the face of the deceased, someone I had never known, who didn’t know me, singing, welling up with tears, sprinkling rose petals and realizing that the sacredness of the moment transcended personal relationships.
This was honoring the cycle of life; the human spirit; human suffering and the profound ordinariness of this extraordinary morning.
As the gurney proceeded out the door and through the garden we began to take our places at the table; some with bag lunches and me looking in the fridge for leftovers.
The lunch was somewhat silent for a few minutes. We were digesting food for the soul. Our eye contact and quiet breaths together told the story of the blessed honor we had shared. Then, as if a bell had rung, the talk about the afternoon schedule began.
I finished my lunch and left to go down the street to see a client in another residential care facility.
As I walked outside I was aware of people walking fast; wearing black, and looking at their palms with plugs stuck in their ears. I had to be careful as everyone was in some kind of personal isolated state, connecting with life through cyberspace. The outside world suddenly felt empty.
I paused. Remembering the gentle aroma of rose petals, I expressed silent gratitude for my morning in the hospice.
Blessings,
Irene Smith www.everflowing.org
