Over the last 3 years I've lost my mother and father to cancer. Daddy found out he had colon cancer in 1991 and went through all the various modes of treatment (chemotherapy, radiation, surgery), but in June 1993 the doctors told him that there was no hope left, and he had 3 to 6 months to live. At that point, my parents sold their home in MO and moved in with me in KY. That's when we all became acquainted with Hospice. I had never known anyone with a terminal illness and was desperately trying to adjust to the thought of losing my father. Hospice came marching in with their army of caring people, and helped us all through one of the bleakest periods in our lives. There was a social worker who was willing to talk and listen and help us all understand that while Daddy's life was coming to a close, we still had time to be together, to love, to communicate, to build the memories that would last a lifetime. There were nurses who came in at various times during the day to administer medication, to help my mother and I understand the pain that Daddy was suffering and the things that we could do to help. There were business people who took care of the insurance and financial side of everything, and they helped us to understand that there was no financial obligation on our part--Hospice would take care of everything that Daddy needed; and they did, from hospital beds right down to room monitors that could be hooked between my room and his so that I could sleep through the night with confidence because I would hear him if he needed me. There were chaplains who came in to offer religious support if it was wanted, and just friendship if that was all that was needed. And there were just people, people who had been in the same situation at some time in their lives and were willing to offer a friendly hand to someone else going through a tough time.

I guess by now, you have gotten the message that I think Hospice is a pretty all-encompassing organization. But not only did they organize everything and take care of the day-to-day details that we couldn't seem to manage at that time; they also offered a network of love and care that made us all feel we weren't alone in the struggle. Even after my father died in November 1993, Hospice was still around for us. The social worker and some of the nurses had become friends by this time, and they would drop by and take Mom out to lunch and talk with her, just to let her know that they understood her sorrow and grief and were willing to help in any way possible.

And then in October 1995 my mother became ill, and we found out she had lung cancer. She was in the hospital for only two weeks before she died, but already thinking she would be coming home and needing a great deal of medical attention, Hospice had called me and was ready to be there for us in our time of need.

Small wonder that I decided in April 1996 that Hospice had given us so much, it was time to give something back. They were there when I needed them, and it was time for me to be there for someone else.