It is an honor and a privilege to serve patients and families facing life-limiting illnesses. End-of-life experiences are rich in emotion and spirituality. Serving in this type of environment allows us to be present during a time that is sacred and offers us access to peoples lives at at time of intense vulnerability. Each story is unique and special. This is one of my favorites.
When I was very young I had a newspaper route. I hated it. Looking back I can see the importance of the lessons learned through this responsibility and I probably even thank my parents for it, however, as a child you rarely see past the end of your nose. At the time I thought it was cruel and inhumane of my folks to make me get up at 5:00 am, regardless of the weather, stuff newspapers, stack them on to a cart, and wheel them around my entire neighborhood. Oh, and we didn't throw them on the driveway like they do nowadays. We walked them up to the door and placed them securely between the storm and front door of each neighbor's home. Perhaps that's why I am such a stickler for exceptional customer service today. I digress...
What I did really love about the newspaper route was the "collecting". At the end of each month we would go door to door and collect money for the papers we delivered. I enjoyed it because it offered the opportunity to get to know the people that we served. My older customers would ask me inside and serve up cookies, milk and other treats. As I would nibble on the tasty (and sometimes not so tasty) snacks, they would tell me stories about their lives, their children, and their grandchildren.
A couple I was particularly fond of was the Carmichael's. I had to make sure I had plenty of time when I went collecting to their house because I knew I would be there for at least an hour. The Carmichael's lived on the corner and Mr. & Mrs. Carmichel did everything together. Mrs. Carmichael didn't drive so Mr. Carmichael took her everywhere she wanted to go. They didn't have any children but I remember being struck by how in love they seemed to me. At the time I didn't know a thing about love but it touched me the way he would dote on her. He would anticipate her needs, tease her and look at her with an affection that I wasn't used to seeing in people that age. Whatever they had I knew I wanted when I grew up. Mr. & Mrs. Carmichael became like adopted grandparents. They came to my Kindergarten play (yes, I delivered newspapers that young! Thanks, Mom & Dad!) and took me out to lunch afterwards, things like that.
I remember the day that Mrs. Carmichael became very ill. I don't remember exactly how old I was but I believe I was around 12 years old. I would go to check on Mr. Carmichael when he would come home from the hospital. He could barely look at me and would tell me he "couldn't talk right now" and I could tell he had been crying. Mrs. Carmichael died shortly thereafter and when she died it took all of the life out of her husband. He would barely come out of the house. His car would be parked out front for days. In no time, I got the news that Mr. Carmichael had died too. To this day I believe he died of a broken heart. In fact, I know it to be so.
A love like that is rare. Still, I have had the honor to witness several stories like that of the Carmichaels' and I think of them each time. There is something so moving to see older couples holding hands, kissing, hugging and smiling at each other. It makes you wonder about all that they have been through and how true a commitment it is to stay married for so many years and be that happy and in love. Call me crazy, but to love someone so much that you physically, emotionally and spiritually lose the will to live without them is incredibly romantic.
Just thought I'd share.
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