Santa Muerte Case

I held his hand until he took his last breath, it was what he wanted. He did not want to die alone. They say the last sense to go is your sense of hearing, that those on their death beds can hear the world around them, and some even believe they can hear the world they are going to. It is what I did, not every day but most; comfort the dying. Even though I am far from family to these people, I care about them like they were. Moments later after Mr. Archibald perished his daughter came flying in the room. “Oh my dear God!” she exclaimed. “Is he, he…dead?” she stammered. She was two minutes too late and collapsed to the floor into a heaving pile of tears, spit and regret. If she had been there sooner she could have whispered into his dying ear all those feelings of regret and loss that everyone says. He would have heard her and been paralyzed, unable to speak back the same words. Maybe his would have been of forgiveness for a wrong unjustly done or to proclaim undying love for his daughter. We will never know. It is sad to watch this happen more often than not. People leave a lot of things unsaid and unfinished.

Over time, death becomes normal. I have sat and watched so many people die and when I tell people what I do for a living I always get the same response: “Oh that’s so sad, it takes a special person to do that.” I can tell you that I do not feel the same way about death that most do. I should feel despondent when people die but I do not. Most of the patients I have worked with have been suffering and holding onto this life for far longer than they needed to. So watching them go through the final phase of existence and onto another place feels more like a blessing to witness then seeing them suffer with trying to hold on. I am not afraid of dying either.

Working for hospice was not a hard decision to make. After working for many years as a bath aid on an Alzheimer unit, I began to envy the aids that came in to care for the hospice