Don’t Wait

There are some hospice moments that stay with me long after my day has ended.

This was one of them.

Her mother’s breathing had become softer. The medications were doing exactly what we had hoped. We had turned and repositioned her to a position of comfort. The labored breathing eased. The gurgling quieted. Her face looked peaceful.

Earlier, the daughter who was at her mother’s bedside had called her sisters because she knew the end was near.

They were driving as quickly as they could to see their mother one last time. We all hoped they would arrive in time.

But as I watched her breathing become slower and slower, I suddenly realized they might not make it.

Quickly I turned to Sandy and motioned to get closer to her mom.

“Come, talk to your mom,” I said. “Tell her everything you need to,” as I held her hand.

Instead, through tears, she leaned close and pleaded, “No, Mom. You need to hold on. Please wait until they get here, they are so close.”

It was an understandable request. I could hear the desperation in her voice.

But her mother’s body had made its own decision.

With each peaceful breath, I watched her relax even more until, quietly and gently, she took her last breath. We both watched to see if she would take another breath. But she didn’t.

The room erupted with grief.

Sandy fell across her mother’s bed, sobbing bitterly.

“No, Mom… you can’t go now.” She kept repeating that over and over.

Even after many months afterward, I still remember that moment.

In my experience, many dying patients seem to wait for someone they love before letting go. But not this time.

Later, when the sisters arrived, they quietly said to their sister, “This is how Mom would have wanted it.”

I believe they were right.

Still, that experience has never completely left me.

I’ve heard people say, “Tomorrow is not promised,” countless times. But that day I witnessed what happens when there isn’t another tomorrow.

We often think there will be another visit.

Another phone call.

Another holiday.

Another chance to say the words you’ve been meaning to say.

Sometimes there is.

Sometimes there isn’t.

Hospice has taught me many lessons, but this may be one of the most important:

Don’t wait to tell someone you love them.

Don’t postpone forgiveness.

Don’t assume there will be more time.

The words you are saving for another day may be the very words someone needs today.

An Affirmation For You:

I choose to speak love while I still have the opportunity. Today is a gift, and I will not take it for granted.

Self-Care Tip:

Before your day ends, reach out to one person who matters to you. It doesn’t have to be a long conversation. A simple phone call, text message, or “I love you” can become a gift that neither of you will ever regret.

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The Hidden Reason I Became a Hospice Nurse