Happy New Year

Jule has ushered in another new year. Twelve months ago, I stood in line at Macy's with my daughter to buy my mother a Christmas present when suddenly my eyes watered over. "What's wrong, Mom?" she asked. "Nan is very sick," I told her. "I hope this is not her last Christmas with us." She gave me a tight squeeze.

Jule was signed into hospice in January 2009. I remember the day like it was yesterday. I cried all afternoon: while we signed papers, while the nurse examined her, while she sat quietly smiling and saying, "It's alright sweetie. This is what I want." I tried to hide, walked from room to room muffling my sobs. The hospice nurse put out a 911 call on me and sent the chaplain over to console me. From that moment on, our lives improved.

Last week, my sister Mary commented that she is certain hospice has prolonged Mom's life. There have been several occasions where Mom received medicine hours after feeling sick instead of waiting for doctor's appointments, having to travel to the hospital or emergency room, or wait for a drugstore to fill a prescription. She's infinitely more comfortable. Several momths ago, when she could no longer manage a bath or shower, her aide began helping her and this has avoided slips while saving my mother's dignity.

Most importantly, we've made new friends. Her nurse and aide now feel like family. We swap stories, books, and Mom looks forward to their visits.

Happy New Year, Mom. And thank-you hospice.