A New Job, Part 2: An Update

Less than a month after the post regarding my new job, Hospice Advantage offered me a part-time position, which I excitedly accepted. February 28 was my last day at the Michigan Conference, and the week following I began 20 hours at hospice.

I love my work.

I just absolutely love it.

Someone asked me how it is that I could love my job when it revolves around other people's tragedy. I suppose it's the same with any helping profession. Here's my best explanation.

I don't love the fact that there is tragedy. I don't love the fact that people's lives are going to be changed forever because of sickness, disease and death.  But, I do love these people.  And loving them means I love helping them in any way I can.

I see that same thing in everyone I work with, which makes the environment that much more wonderful. They love what they do, too.  They have a genuine love for those they're helping.

I'm learning that loving the people we are helping means a variety of things; the love must manifest itself in different ways, different behaviors, with each person.

Sometimes it means providing relief by answering questions about death and dying, and the disease process.

Sometimes it means practical help in researching area hospice homes, or funeral homes.

Sometimes it means reducing anxiety by advocating for them to the hearing aid company.

Sometimes it means imparting joy by telling them they look beautiful today in that purple sweater.

Sometimes it simply means reducing loneliness by visiting them when no one else will.

Sometimes it even means letting go of my compulsion to help because the family thinks I'm too young and inexperienced.

Sometimes it means visiting anyway, even though my presence reminds them they have cancer.  Because when the denial crumbles, they'll need a shoulder.

And most recently, it meant sitting with a lone family member standing vigil at the bedside. Hearing her memories. Listening to her share her heart, knowing she just needed someone to be with her. It meant being there when the family gathered around the bed, while they stroked their loved ones arm as her breathing became distant. It meant giving a hug. Receiving a firm handshake. And hearing how much Hospice Advantage meant to them.

That's why I love what I do.

I don't love tragedy.  But being there for someone who's going through tragedy, arguably the ultimate tragedy, is a gift that, surprisingly to some, gives back 100-fold.  There's just nothing like seeing a lonely, confused, dying woman light up her countenance with a bright smile when you say she looks beautiful.

There's nothing like seeing an anxious woman wipe tears from her eyes after telling her things will be okay, that I'm here to help her.

Their stories, memories, the sharing of their hearts, changes me each day.  It changes the way I live.

That's why I love what I do.