You hear about hospice in your adult life and you may even, in passing, mention it when an elderly parent is faced with a cancer diagnosis, but you never really expect or plan for the fact that you may actually be dealing with or talking to the hospice aides, nurses and volunteers who are trying to teach us a) how to watch my father die and b) how to help him transition from the present to the next “act”.
It’s an incredible program which when mentioned in mixed company brings raves and many different peoples’ experiences start oozing out. It’s one of those private moments that sometimes feels anything but and yet at the same time universal.
This part of watching and trying to figure out how much time we have left with him is…excruciating and yet, we still have the capacity to hear his voice and when near enough touch him.
I keep saying that I’d like to see God’s planner to see what it is He thinks He’s doing, but I think He is being terribly kind and not granting me my wish knowing full well I would be unable to face it all (regardless of the particulars).
And so, the journey continues.