We gathered at the end of one shift for some and the beginning of another for others. We were care partners, a housekeeper, dietary partners, two nurses and an advocate. We gathered to grieve.
Our neighbourhood had experienced three deaths in a week. If you don’t work with us, you might think this is common and expected, but in fact, it’s been months. Like blasts from a cannon, each was disturbing and unsettling, and one was entirely unexpected. We were reeling and needed a chance to regroup.
“Really? You work with people in their nineties and older. Surely death is a common and even welcome guest. You must know this is coming. It’s woven into the fabric of what you do every day.”
There are some aspects of truth there, but so much more. If you are doing caring right, if you are treating elders as they should be treated, if you are looking for quality of life, purpose and meaning every day, you form relationships. The elders are your friends. You applaud when they recover from an illness and rejoice when they enjoy an experience. You share yourself with them and laugh with them and receive from them. You go home at night still thinking of ways you might make their lives better. You problem solve and think creatively about what they might enjoy.
It’s not all butterflies and unicorns. There are times, sometimes several times in a day, when you think, “If everyone could please stop talking to me, I might get one thing accomplished.” You struggle for patience with their families who are sometimes unreasonable. You answer the same question until you want to scream, but instead, you smile.
These are your friends.
When your friends die, you feel like a piece of fabric that has been torn in two. You wrap the ragged edges around yourself, and you need to crawl away and process the fact that a part of you is missing. You need to grieve. Yesterday our team sat together, ate cupcakes and talked about our friends. We told stories that made us laugh–and cry. We struggled to grasp the reality that our family, our neighbourhood, was changed.
We were changed.
I am changed. I take with me the positive attitude of one, the gentle smile of another, and the sense of humour of the third. Pieces of them have become part of me.
I am blessed.
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