(In 2010 I was working hospice but I also had my private care management business. I wrote this in honor of one of my treasured private clients who'd also recently become my hospice patient…)
“Marion, Dear Marion, I was going to take roses to you on Wednesday, but work and other patients got in the way. I was then going to take roses to you on Thursday, but I was interrupted, in fact, en route to you. Friday morning, I say to myself, "As soon as the staff meeting's over, I am going to take my roses to Marion."
Friday I prepare my vase, full of a miniature garden of roses, for Marion. Roses, from my garden, so full and plentiful. I look forward to cutting the most perfect ones, the ones at the very peak of life before fading. And always one carefully chosen with delight and perfectly placed in the bouquet, The Center of Attention, for all to see. Then the young one on the edge, ready to burst open with its fullness of scent and color and life. I'm excited to see you with my gift of roses! Excited for you to know that I will share them with you, and that you will know how special you are to me.
... But at that staff meeting, I learned that you died early that morning.
My roses die with you. We always think we have tomorrow. It's not that tomorrow never comes. Tomorrow always comes and brings what tomorrow brings. Indeed, we must find a way to do today when it comes to those we love. Maybe someday we will learn. Others have tried to teach me this. You, my old friend, have given me this final gift in your departure. The gift of this understanding.
“Dear God, help me to do this work in the days ahead. Please give me strength and keep me turning to You when the going gets tough. For when all is said and done, I am doing this for You, and You are my reward. Thank you.”
Kate McGahan: 11 July 2010
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