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As some of my friends already know, I started volunteering at a local hospice house last year. I make dinners for the residents and staff every Monday night. I was inspired to try this by three different friends before I took the leap. Years ago, I lost a dear friend to cancer. During this time, we talked a lot about dying and what a terminal person felt was important to them. She appreciated the little things. A warm, soft blanket she could run her hands over, a relaxing foot rub, and comfort food. I’d often bring her favorite banana cream pie from Homestyle. She knew I enjoyed preparing food and encouraged me to volunteer at Quiet Oaks. It took a while after her death to make this commitment because it hurt to think of losing her. Now I do this in her memory.
Another friend and her husband have volunteered at Quiet Oaks together on the weekends. They do a variety of jobs. They often spoke about the wonderful people, staff, and residents who were able to die in such a peaceful setting, surrounded by nature and loved ones. One story that they told was of someone who wanted a root beer float for dessert each night. How happy this special treat was to him and just making it gave joy. I thought I could make a root beer float. I could make two floats and we could eat them together. What a gift that would be to me.
The final push was talking to a friend at church whose son was training to be a nurse. He was working there at Quiet Oaks. I thought, Okay, enough hints. I will call them. I have rarely missed a Monday since. It has been such a gift to me. I get to do what I love, cook, and I have people who appreciate the comfort foods I make. No worry about butter or cream or calories. I make soups, meatloaves, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs, cakes, frosted brownies, and most of all, homemade bread. The smell is the goal for me. Baking bread reaches their rooms and might just remind them of home or childhood. My mom has come along to help. We made incredible apple bars. The apples were fresh from the tree. I wonder if that brought back memories for some.
I believe it is in our hearts to treat the dying as we do the newly born. With joy, respect, and happy conversation. It is okay to cry with them, laugh with them and most of all let them know you will miss them with all your heart when they are gone. Everyone wants to be missed. Hugs and peace to you, Sandy
“I am here to die.” “Pardon me but you are here to live until you die. There is a significant difference.” – Queenie Hennessy
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