What else can I do?

This is part two of a series about Kate who enrolled in outpatient hospice services at age 91 with end-stage congestive heart failure. Kate lives with her daughter, Rose and son-in-law, Bub. Kate continues to exert her independence while Rose attempts to maintain that “delicate balance”, providing support without becoming overly protective.

Bill, Kate’s hospice volunteer, soon displaced Pete, our hospice chaplain, as Kate’s favorite. Once upon a time Kate told Pete, “Pete, Pete you’re so sweet”, but Kate discarded Pete like a worn-out shoe when Bill came on the scene. What Kate did to Pete reminds me of a song by The Foundations: “Why do you build me up Buttercup, baby, just to let me down and mess me around…”, (Build Me Up Buttercup). Of course, I loved telling Pete.

In part one of this series Kate shared a story from her childhood in rural West Virginia. When Kate was ten years old her disabled neighbor sent his son over to Kate’s house to buy a couple chickens. Kate recounted, “I told him I would have to go up in the woods to shoot them. We always let our chickens run around in the woods because when they run around in the woods like that they get as big as turkeys. So, I went up in the woods where they were; I whistled and when they stuck their heads up and looked around, their heads made good targets.”

Kate then, like the legendary Paul Harvey, shared, “The rest of the story”, about her disabled neighbor: “Our neighbor had been a police officer. One day a little boy found his father’s pistol and hid behind their couch with it. The family tried to coax him out, but he wouldn’t come, so they called the police for help. Our neighbor was the officer on duty and when he tried to take the gun away from the boy it accidentally fired and shot our neighbor in the hip.” Kate continued, “From that day forward our neighbor was barely able to walk, so he took up quilting to have something to do. Other people made fun of him for it, but I thought a lot of him for it.”

Kate’s story launched us into a discussion about the vital importance of “having something to do”, of staying engaged in meaningful activities. I pointed out to Kate that, week after week, when I asked her what she had been up to she always responded with a sigh, “I’m just putting in my time. I can’t see very well, I can barely walk, and my hearing is bad. What else can I do?” I explained to Kate, “I don’t know if that bothers you, but it sure bothers me.”

So, Kate and I brainstormed what else she could do. Kate loved the Book of Psalms, so her family ordered the book on cassette. She loved reading novels about the Wild West, so we checked out books on cassette from the public library. We talked about the power of our words to encourage and inspire others. Kate suggested, “Maybe God can use some of my spiritual experiences, things that I’ve learned, to help others.” Therefore, Kate started routinely reaching out, checking on family and friends and praying for them”.

An old preacher once told a friend of mine, “The present and the future aren’t always an extension of the past”. When there’s no going back to what used to be, like Kate and her neighbor, we are faced with the challenge of figuring out, “What else can I do?” When we turn our sighs into questions and seek the answers we continue to live.

“Don’t let it be written on your tombstone, ‘Died age fifty, buried age seventy’,” (Anonymous).

Loren Hardin worked as a hospice social worker for twenty-nine years. He can be contacted at lorenhardin53@gmail.com or at (740) 357-6091. You can order a copy of Loren’s book, “Straight Paths: Insights for living from those who have finished the course,”