Anthony’s Christmas with Santa

Our stories about meaningful experiences are written as they unfold. Therefore, most stories are in the present tense. Some of the patients in these stories are no longer with us. They, and their families, gave us permission to share their experience with you. For those who have since passed, we share these in their memories with deep appreciation for what they have taught us about life and living.

Anthony is a young man under our care. His home-hospice team worked to manage pain and symptoms and to support him and his family. As they got to know him, they were reminded that, even in the midst of crisis, children want to feel “normal.”

All he wanted, he told his family, was a Super Mario game. It was October, and our team immediately set out to make sure he got the game he wanted. We asked the local Walmart to partner with us. They did, donating the game along with dozens of Mario-branded toys, clothes, and bedding.

With a cartload of wonderful gifts, we had an idea: would Anthony’s family be interested in making this an early Christmas? Yes, they told us. Anthony still believed wholeheartedly in Santa, and he loved Christmas.

A local Santa agreed to help. On Halloween day, he and Anthony’s Hospice Care Plus team drove to Anthony’s home in a car filled with Christmas gifts wrapped by our volunteers. One team member remembers that, when Anthony first spotted Santa, he could think of nothing to say about this unexpected, magical moment except, “Santa. I love you.” For the next hour or so, Anthony and his parents—we made sure they had gifts, too—shared a small family celebration of Christmas on Halloween afternoon.

Magical moments like these are possible because our community of donors, businesses, and volunteers understands that, in hospice and palliative care, every moment matters. We believe that making these moments possible is every bit as essential to quality of life as the medical management of pain and symptoms.

How can you honor life during National Hospice & Palliative Care Month? Visit the #WeHonorLife campaign page to learn about all the ways you can help, from volunteering and shopping to helping us increase access to specialized care for the seriously ill and their families. Questions? Contact us at hospice@hospicecp.org or 859-986-1500 or visit our website.

To Have Mom at My Wedding

Our stories about meaningful experiences are written as they unfold. Therefore, most stories are in the present tense. Some of the patients in these stories are no longer with us. They, and their families, gave us permission to share their experience with you. For those who have since passed, we share these in their memories with deep appreciation for what they have taught us about life and living.

We met Nancy through her mother who was in our care at the Compassionate Care Center.

During a conversation with Nancy, one of our nurses, Teresa Dickson, learned that she felt sad that her mother wouldn’t be with her for her wedding in June. 

Teresa immediately spoke with Heather Randall, a social worker, about Nancy’s situation. Together, they offered Nancy the opportunity to have her wedding at the Center.

When Teresa and Heather discussed the wedding idea with Nancy, they helped her understand that her mother, Connie, was declining quickly and that the wedding should take place the next day.

The Hospice Care Plus staff, immediately began reaching out to friends and supporters to help pull the wedding together.

We worried we wouldn’t find a wedding dress that quickly. But, as luck would have it, a staff member checked Facebook and found that a Mt. Vernon woman had a dress for sale in Nancy’s size. We contacted the woman (Mrs. Renée Oliver), and she very generously offered to donate the dress to Nancy. Mrs. Oliver later shared that her grandfather had been a patient at our Compassionate Care Center 10 years ago. When we met to pick up the dress from her, she said, “today would have been my grandfather’s birthday. You all finding my dress was just meant to be.” Amazingly, it was a perfect fit for Nancy and looked lovely on her. Many thanks to Mrs. Oliver!

Kroger Marketplace in Richmond is always so helpful to us. We contacted them to ask if their floral department might help us with a bouquet, and they donated a beautiful one, which included daisies, Nancy’s favorite flower.

Every bride should feel special and beautiful, and we wanted that for Nancy and her mother, even if we had only 24 hours to plan. Thankfully, a few key people donated their time and services quickly. Charm Todd at Perfect Touch Beauty Salon in Richmond donated hair styling for Nancy. Kylie Randall, daughter of social worker Heather Randall, donated makeup application. And Roni April, a former nurse at our Compassionate Care Center, saw a staff member’s Facebook post about needing bobby pins and used her lunch break at work to buy them and bring them to us.

Since we had to pull the wedding together so quickly, the families really didn’t have time to worry about returning home for clothing or purchasing special items. Amy Lasher, owner of Kid to Kid, donated ties and suspenders for the groom and the children, and Russell and Cynthia Cole donated a shirt for the groom.

We also wondered how to get a wedding-worthy cake quickly. Thankfully, Leah Dean Lowe with Chaos Confections Bakery came to the rescue. She donated a beautiful cake, decked out with the bride’s favorite flower: daisies.

Photographer Kat Wagers, owner of Kat Wayers Studios, was alerted to our Facebook post, in which we asked for help finding a professional photographer who might donate services on short notice. She agreed and came through with flying colors, spending a great deal of time taking and processing hundreds of photographs. We’re so grateful that Nancy has these beautiful photos to treasure.

Kelly Price Taylor, one of our volunteers and well-known in Madison County for her beautiful voice, sang a processional song for the bride and groom.  Another Hospice Care Plus volunteer, Hee-Young Shin, sang the recessional in the same lovely voice she uses to sing to patients at the Center when she volunteers. Ruth Crutcher, who prepares meals for patients at the Center, also joined in.

Family members, guests, and Hospice Care Plus staff and volunteers watched as the bride and her father came through the doors of the Center’s family room to take their places in front of the mantle. With Denise Roberts McKinney, Hospice Care Plus chaplain, officiating and her mother in her bed next to them, the bride and groom were married.

Our chief medical director, Dr. Hanan Budeiri (known to all of us as Dr. B), donated refreshments for a reception.

Our thanks to the family for their willingness to share this moment with you. That willingness stems from their appreciation for your help, without which Nancy and her mother would not have been able to celebrate Nancy’s wedding together.

Nancy’s mother died peacefully the next morning, knowing her daughter treasured her enough to make sure she was present at such a key life milestone.

Hospice care is often like this: sadness at the loss or potential loss of a loved one, punctuated by moments of joy, affection, peace, compassion, and togetherness. Our thanks to everyone who helped make this possible.

How can you honor life during National Hospice & Palliative Care Month? Visit the #WeHonorLife campaign page to learn about all the ways you can help, from volunteering and shopping to helping us increase access to specialized care for the seriously ill and their families. Questions? Contact us at hospice@hospicecp.org or 859-986-1500 or visit our website.


To See a Movie in the Theater

Our stories about meaningful experiences are written as they unfold. Therefore, most stories are in the present tense. Some of the patients in these stories are no longer with us. They, and their families, gave us permission to share their experience with you. For those who have since passed, we share these in their memories with deep appreciation for what they have taught us about life and living.

Elizabeth, 27 years old, felt a strong connection with Joey Feek and very much wanted to see the movie, “To Joey, with Love.” But our medical team was concerned that Elizabeth might not be with us by October 6, when the movie was to be shown for the last time.

Elizabeth’s care team got together with her family to make a plan.

We called the theater and asked for their help. In no time at all, they made arrangements to give a private viewing to Elizabeth and her family. They donated snacks for Elizabeth’s family, guests, and the nursing staff we sent with her. She was able to watch the entire film from the comfort of her stretcher, provided by Madison County EMS.

It seemed to all of us that she used all the resources left to her to make it to, and through, that film. She declined quickly afterward. We learned less than an hour before the final public viewing of the film, that she had passed away.

Rest in peace, Elizabeth. We’re so happy you got to be part of a story that meant so much to you. Special thanks go to everyone at Cinemark at Richmond Centre, Madison County EMS, Elizabeth’s wonderful family for allowing us to be part of her care, and Joey+Rory, whose beautiful and brave story means so much to so many.

How can you honor life during National Hospice & Palliative Care Month? Visit the #WeHonorLife campaign page to learn about all the ways you can help, from volunteering and shopping to helping us increase access to specialized care for the seriously ill and their families. Questions? Contact us at hospice@hospicecp.org or 859-986-1500 or visit our website.

To Make a Meaningful Mark

Our stories about meaningful experiences are written as they unfold. Therefore, most stories are in the present tense. Some of the patients in these stories are no longer with us. They, and their families, gave us permission to share their experience with you. For those who have since passed, we share these in their memories with deep appreciation for what they have taught us about life and living.

We all have bucket-list wishes. Sometimes the thing you want to do seems simple, like getting a tattoo, but is really about much more–claiming and honoring someone you love, for instance.

As our Hospice Care Plus home care team worked with and cared for Deloris, it became clear that one of her daughters was on her mind. Deloris had tattoos representing each of her children. But this daughter was adopted later in life, so she wasn’t included in the tattoo. As our care team learned more about her, they could see that this was important and meaningful. They did what they always do – tried to find a way to make it happen.

Chasity Smallwood-Coleman, our director of development, heard about Deloris’s special wish on her day off work. She was familiar with a local tattoo business–Lucky Lady Tattoos in Richmond–and reached out to ask its artist, Will, for help. Will agreed to donate his services.

Then, as we often do, we turned to our heroes at Madison County EMS about safely transporting Deloris to Lucky Lady Tattoos. They also let her be tattooed on the stretcher, which was more comfortable for her.

By the end of the day, Deloris had what she needed: resolution, peace, and a mark that claimed and embraced all of her children.

How can you honor life during National Hospice & Palliative Care Month? Visit the #WeHonorLife campaign page to learn about all the ways you can help, from volunteering and shopping to helping us increase access to specialized care for the seriously ill and their families.Questions? Contact us at hospice@hospicecp.org or 859-986-1500 or visit our website.

To Learn to Drive

In this reflection from a current staff member and former volunteer at Hospice Care Plus,  we learn that sometimes, even family members of hospice patients have important bucket-list items.

Faced with life without her longtime husband, a grieving widow learns to drive, with the help of a special hospice friend.

Faced with life without her longtime husband, a grieving widow wants to learn to take the wheel, literally.

I became acquainted with hospice as a volunteer while in college. My first assignment was with an older couple I’ll call Mr. and Mrs. C. I was asked to visit them weekly to give Mr. C some company and Mrs. C a brief break.

On my first visit, Mrs. C asked me to sit with her husband while she went to do laundry. I sat there, full of the sense of immortality young people have, and realized how quickly it can all be taken away. Yet, there was something very hopeful in what I saw. I saw a man in his own living room, being cared for by his wife of 52 years. The wall next to his bed was filled with photographs from Mr. and Mrs. C’s life together. I saw him as a young man with his parents, as a brand new husband and then brand new father, as a smitten grandpa, and then as a comfortably older gentleman with his arms around his wife.

I saw a life and a person—not a patient.

When Mrs. C came back, she leaned over him, kissed him on the forehead, and said, “I’m back, Daddy.” He broke into a huge smile and held her to him for a bit. I sat a little uncomfortably, trying to pretend I wasn’t misty-eyed.

This, I thought—this is what it should be like in the last months of life.

Mr. C died peacefully, at home, about two months after that visit. I continued to see Mrs. C as part of hospice’s bereavement program, which offers grief support after a loss. We became fast friends, and I quickly learned that she was anxious about life now that she was alone.

Mr. C always paid the bills and balanced the checkbook. He was also their driver. So, with Mr. C gone and their children far away, Mrs. C felt lost and helpless. She couldn’t get a handle on the whole checkbook business, and she felt very limited by not being able to drive. We talked about these issues each visit, when I’d come to take her to the grocery store.

One week, after we shopped and returned to the car, I asked Mrs. C if she’d like to learn to drive. She was frightened by the prospect and insisted she didn’t want to risk harming my car. I assured her that I had faith it would be okay. She got behind the wheel of that car in the grocery store parking lot, and spent 10 minutes learning about the pedals and the next 10 minutes weaving in and out of parking lot lanes.

We continued this for weeks, until, one fall day, she went for her road test and passed. We celebrated by letting her drive me to the grocery store, where she insisted on buying me a box of cookies. We ate the whole thing on the way back to her house.

Over time, we also worked together to master the art of the checkbook. I stayed in touch with Mrs. C for more than 10 years. I called to tell her all about the boyfriend I was sure would become my husband (he did). When we had our first child, I paid her a visit. When I moved out of state, we wrote letters. When I learned she passed away peacefully at home one morning, I cried, got in my car, drove to Kroger’s for a box of cookies, and ate the whole box in her memory.

Mr. and Mrs. C’s experience convinced me that hospice care is essential to the best quality of life in the last months—so respectful of dignity, of relationships, of hopes and dreams. They also taught me that our dreams change when life hangs in the balance. For them and for her, the dream was to share a life together, at home, until the last moment, and then to learn how to go on—independently, behind your own wheel—when you suddenly find yourself all alone in the driver’s seat.

Wishes like these are made possible exclusively through donations from people like you.

Help us celebrate National Hospice and Palliative Care Day by donating or volunteering with Hospice Care Plus at #WeHonorLife.