What Can We Do To Help?
By Ruti Lovitt
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October 10, 1999. My 50th Birthday. About 11:45 AM.
This was the third day a Hospice volunteer had arrived promptly at 9:00 AM to assist my husband in getting ready for the day. Prior to three days before, I was his sole care giver during his 15-month battle with the devastating damage of a malignant salivary gland tumor and the “treatment” thereof.
The Hospice volunteer also gave me a much needed 2-hour window to have the luxury of a normal shower and walk. I had savored every step, soaking up the sunshine, brilliant colors and bird songs of a spectacular Montana fall morning. Then I was back on duty. Tough, totally absorbing duty.
The week before, Jim had assured me he was fine and I went to take a quick shower. A couple minutes later I heard him call. He had a sudden need for the bathroom and had fallen trying to get up. I had to cut his clothes off of him. Thus, against his wishes, I had called Hospice. It was the hardest thing I have ever done; it felt like admitting defeat. It turned out that this was the last week of his life
This was the third day a Hospice volunteer had arrived promptly at 9:00 AM to assist my husband in getting ready for the day. Prior to three days before, I was his sole care giver during his 15-month battle with the devastating damage of a malignant salivary gland tumor and the “treatment” thereof.
The Hospice volunteer also gave me a much needed 2-hour window to have the luxury of a normal shower and walk. I had savored every step, soaking up the sunshine, brilliant colors and bird songs of a spectacular Montana fall morning. Then I was back on duty. Tough, totally absorbing duty.
The week before, Jim had assured me he was fine and I went to take a quick shower. A couple minutes later I heard him call. He had a sudden need for the bathroom and had fallen trying to get up. I had to cut his clothes off of him. Thus, against his wishes, I had called Hospice. It was the hardest thing I have ever done; it felt like admitting defeat. It turned out that this was the last week of his life
The doorbell rang. I opened it to two radiantly smiling faces. One was the only lady air traffic controller, who had become a very good friend since I had become a flight instructor, and the other was one of her colleagues who always wore a shirt with “Smile” embroidered on the pocket. Jodie immediately placed a cardboard “Queen for a Day” crown on my head and said, “We are kidnapping you for lunch”.
I could see beyond them. There was a decorated flatbed truck, the bed lined with hay bales, balloons flying in the breeze. The hay bales were covered with friends in high spirits, waving and smiling. I cried. I said, “Oh, Jodie, this is so wonderful. But I cannot leave Jim.” Then “Smile”-on-his-pocket Steve said, “I’m not only an air traffic controller; I am a Hospice volunteer. I know how to take care of Jim.” I have a lump in my throat as I write, remembering this amazingly thoughtful kindness! On behalf of many people!
They whisked me away for 3 hours of absolute bliss! They took me to my favorite lunch spot, gave me crazy cards, and made me belly laugh over and over and over.
When I was returned to Jim, I had incredibly renewed energy. Their loving kindness truly sustained me through not only his remaining 4 days, but the months of grieving that followed. I can still see their kind, loving faces. I can feel the courage it took to whisk me away, not knowing how I would take it — would I resent their joy in the midst of my gut-wrenching sadness? I’m so glad they took the risk to be themselves and gift me with 3 hours of celebration, not only of my birthday, but of the depth of friendship and support that existed in that room.
I could see beyond them. There was a decorated flatbed truck, the bed lined with hay bales, balloons flying in the breeze. The hay bales were covered with friends in high spirits, waving and smiling. I cried. I said, “Oh, Jodie, this is so wonderful. But I cannot leave Jim.” Then “Smile”-on-his-pocket Steve said, “I’m not only an air traffic controller; I am a Hospice volunteer. I know how to take care of Jim.” I have a lump in my throat as I write, remembering this amazingly thoughtful kindness! On behalf of many people!
They whisked me away for 3 hours of absolute bliss! They took me to my favorite lunch spot, gave me crazy cards, and made me belly laugh over and over and over.
When I was returned to Jim, I had incredibly renewed energy. Their loving kindness truly sustained me through not only his remaining 4 days, but the months of grieving that followed. I can still see their kind, loving faces. I can feel the courage it took to whisk me away, not knowing how I would take it — would I resent their joy in the midst of my gut-wrenching sadness? I’m so glad they took the risk to be themselves and gift me with 3 hours of celebration, not only of my birthday, but of the depth of friendship and support that existed in that room.