Wednesday, December 7, 2016

About Endings

Perhaps you remember my friend, Miss Trudy. She is the neighbor who became my friend. She moved into an assisted living almost two years ago and did well there. She ate meals with others in the dining room and with physical therapy was able to get out of her wheelchair and use a walker to get around her apartment. She was happy and she was no longer alone.

At the beginning of last summer she developed a serious infection that required hospitalization, surgery, and another stay in a skilled nursing facility. After a few months, she was able to return to the assisted living but never quite hit her stride again after her return. She wasn't interested in General Hospital anymore. She didn't want to go on outings. She stopped reading her romance novels. She missed her husband who died some years ago and talked about looking forward to seeing him "on the other side of this mess."

In late November, she gradually stopped eating. Nothing sounded good. On Sunday she asked me to bring her See's candy. Chocolate is her favorite. I brought her a half pound box of truffles. She took one bite and handed the candy back to me.

"You keep it," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't even want chocolate anymore... I guess this is serious."

Tuesday night I sat with her and we watched a couple of Christmas movies on the Hallmark Channel while we waited for a meeting with the admissions nurse from hospice. Miss Trudy had seen all of the Hallmark movies before at least three times but she wanted to watch them again. They all had happy endings. She especially liked the one about Mrs. Claus going alone to New York City to try to find "Christmas magic" to bring back to Santa at the North Pole.

The hospice nurse interviewed us to see if Miss Trudy would be a candidate for hospice. She asked questions about her mood, her pain level, and her advanced directive and religious preferences. Miss Trudy would begin to answer a question, get tired, sigh, and then look at me to finish the answer. I signed some paperwork. Hospice will start coming everyday now.

Tonight I went to see her and I brought Teddy with me. First he stopped to say hello to all of the residents in the lobby, making his way from one person to the next, collecting pets and hugs. When we entered Miss Trudy's room, Teddy went straight to the lounger she was sitting in and lay down on her feet.

A staff member came and took her blood sugar - it was quite low. Another staff member came with dinner and tried to coax Miss Trudy to eat. She refused. After they left, she drank a few sips of orange juice and we watched the local news together in her too warm room.  "You are a very good boy, aren't you Teddy?" she said. "You're just the best boy."


  1. This brought tears to my eyes. You are such as good friend, Lisa. My prayers are with you and Miss Trudy.

  2. All I keep thinking is I hope she goes gently. Sending love to you, Bob, Mr. R., Teddy, and especially to Miss Trudy.

  3. This is a story about grace, in all of you.

  4. I don't comment, but I habitually read your blog because it always always lifts my spirits. Your tenderness in so many things really touches me. This is no different. Thank you...please keep writing.

  5. I don't even know Miss Trudy but I'm all teared up and praying her transition will be easy. Trudy is blessed to have you as her friend. You are compassionate and an exceptional writer.
    God Bless,
    Shirley B.

  6. What a blessing you are to her, as she is to you. And bless that sweet Teddy. Praying for peace for all.

  7. There is a point in the lives of some where all we can do is keep them company for awhile.
    When we learn that, they, and we, are blessed.

  8. If there is anything better in this world than a dog, I don't think we've found it yet. And if there's anything better in this world than someone who sits bedside with an elderly person they're not related to, we have found it and its name is Lisa.

  9. Lisa,
    You warned me this would hurt.
    I knew the story before I read it.
    I waited until I fed my tired son dinner and my sick husband soup.
    I waited until the guys fell asleep and my anxious dog was next to me.
    Now I can weep.
    Weep for her, and you, and all of us that feel so close to the edge.
    Somehow I know her truth...and yours... it feels so familiar...
    Sweet dreams, Miss Trudy.
    Good boy, Teddy.
    Lisa, you've got my heart, I adore you.

  10. Once again, you've reminded me why I'm so grateful that there are people like you in the world.


  11. Anna above wrote exactly what was in my heart. Also I know that Teddy is not really a dog, he's an angel. <3