As a Hospice volunteer, on rare occasions, I will connect with a patient more rapidly and on a deeper level than I expect. These fortuitous pairings are all down to luck, like most everything in life. I always try, with my patients, to make the most of our brief time together. But, there is a greater sense of urgency when I feel a powerful connection, and there is much to share and explore. I experienced this with Jim, a patient I was almost not assigned. We had a brief but rich time together. We learned from each other primarily because we were both curious and excited to share knowledge and experiences.

During that first meeting, like other first meetings, we discussed our lives and interests. This somewhat painful conversation gave me a good idea of what I would deal with when I visited Nancy. For Nancy, her entire life had been one horrible disappointment after another. No matter what I asked her or told her that elicited a response, she was dyspeptic and negative on a level I found disturbing.

There is no question that in spending time with hospice patients, assigned caregivers experience grief when a patient dies. We grow close to our patients through the sharing of a sacred space of death preparations. We experience grief because we come to love our patients.

I learned a lot about Susan's life. She could maintain an egoless distance from her history, own it, and speak her truth like no one I've ever met. She could recount mistakes and bad luck as readily as her triumphs and brilliant moves. But the most important lessons from her came in her bearing, strength, and quiet determination in the face of death. The fact that she chose to leave the world on her terms and stuck to that decision was powerful to witness.

As a Hospice Comfort Caregiver, I practice what I call silent, empty vessel, witness presence. I must be physically present but not take up mental, emotional, or spiritual space, allowing the person who is dying the room they need to process the end of their life.