I go to work everyday to watch over seniors who are at a stage closer to death by the minute. I make sure whatever comforts that are possible are made available to them. Sometimes a smile and hug and an ear are all that brings relief. Other times nothing brings peace. Some wish to just pass on.
At this stage, there is not much to look forward in this earthly world. I started this as a job and now know this is a calling and a plan for me. I actually step outside of myself and put these men and women in myself. I find that I care; I really, really care. As the days go by and their mental and physical health declines, I watch for what is close by. Families come and can’t stay too long. They have children and jobs and homes, and memories of what was. I know that they have comfort that Mom or Dad is being well taken care of. I get to help with that.
That is what has been fulfilling. The reward is that I get hugs, “I love you,” and thank yous. Mr. C is ninety-one with dementia. He at times thinks I am his employer; other times he loves me and couldn’t have found a better friend. Mrs. M is ninety-seven and her last moments are very close. Her bravery and hand squeezes show me how the very old love. As I look at my own age and the changes here and coming, I can’t help but wonder … who will be there for me?
