Eulogy Virtues

I closed out the last year and a half of my nursing career as a home health and hospice nurse. Many people find it difficult to understand how anyone can enjoy taking care of those that are dying. “That must be so hard,” I heard time after time. And, of course, there were those times when it was hard. Times when the prodigal child didn’t come home; dismissing their last chance to hold their parent’s hand. Times when the dying wanted nothing to do with hearing the gospel message of life after death. Times when a child closed their eyes for the last time as Mom and Dad attempted to gather strength from each other, only to find neither one had any left.

Although there were these situations when I would leave a home with tears on my cheeks, there were more times that I left with joy in my heart. Joy that this person was at peace with whatever might happen in the next 24 hours. Joy, that relationships had been restored in the nick of time. Joy, that families were willing to give the dying one last gift and care for them in their own homes. A great example of this is my own neighbor – 91 year old Mary Lou. Not one of her four children lived in South Dakota. But each one of them came to take turns for a week or two at a time so their mother could finish out her days in her beloved home amid familiar surroundings. How much that meant to Mary Lou!

Ecclesiastes 7:2-4 tells us that it is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning because there we learn what matters most. Many times I was called out in the middle of the night by family who’s loved one had passed. As much as I treasure good sleep, I never minded these calls. This is where I learned how much the deceased meant to those closest to them. Once I would get to the house there were tasks to be done. After a brief examination of the patient, I would notify the family’s choice of a mortuary to attend the deceased. While waiting for their arrival I would destroy the patient’s medications as is required by law and ready the body for transport by the funeral home staff. I would make notes as to family physician and pharmacy to notify in the morning. But the most meaningful and heartwarming part of my night was to listen to the family share the wonderful stories and memories of their loved one. (Most families that choose to care for a loved one in their home at the end of life are families where relationships are valued.)  I felt it a great privilege to have been invited into this exclusive world of remembrances. It was an hour of learning what the deceased had done while living that mattered most to these loved ones left behind.

David Brooks, a New York Times columnist has this to say about the way we live our lives: There are two kinds of virtues – those that look good on a resume and those you want said at your funeral. Sometimes they overlap, though often they seem to compete. When in doubt, always choose the eulogy virtues.

On these nights (and some days as well) I discovered what virtues are most important to the majority of us. I heard stories of honesty, generosity, compassion, contentment, integrity, courage, humor, and many other qualities that would look mighty fine on a resume in my opinion.

When my own father passed away five years ago, I felt a nudge to share one last story of a virtue that is hard to find these days – the virtue of clean speech. It wasn’t easy to address the congregation at such an emotional time, but I had to share what it meant to me that I had never heard Dad speak a swear word in the sixty years that I knew him. His most used expressions of exasperation were “shucks” and “that’s the berries.”

I can’t help but wonder what my children, siblings, grandchildren, nieces and nephews might say about me once the last heartbeat has beaten. Will I be thought of fondly or do I have some work to do while I still have the time? Will the memories they bring up around the kitchen table diffuse the somber sting of death? I would like nothing more than to know that laughter and smiles were shared on my behalf.

I am grateful for the opportunities I had as a hospice nurse. It was indeed a place that I learned what matters most.

Until next month, keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.