Feelings, nothing more than feelings..........

OH, MY, GOD! She's crying. Quick get kleenex, stat! Send in the militia of social work and pastoral care, bring in a carton of kleenex, particularly the scratchy, millimeter thin kind that shreds with one blow. She's crying, for God's sake because she is overwhelmed. Her father is in the room dying, they have just made the decision for a DNR/DNI order, he is getting meds to make him comfortable. She has a right to be upset. She has the right to cry and sending in a militia of "caring people" isn't going to make the situation any less upsetting. Truth is, she has been up all night, has been thinking about this decision for weeks, she hasn't had breakfast and barely ate dinner last night. She is thirsty, she feels grungy after being up all night and really would appreciate a hot washcloth and some coffee, maybe a muffin and some orange juice. These are readily had around here and so I bring them. She really has made peace with her decision, she is just glad that he won't suffer anymore, she understands the ramifications, she wants Dad to pass with the dignity that he held throughout his life.

Some folks really don't want to talk. Some folks prefer being alone in their pain. Some just want some nice ice cold water. Some want to talk to their loved one alone. Some wail, some sniffle, some yell. Some love to talk and talk. It's cathartic to talk about their loved one's life. He was a teacher, an artist, an architect, a bus driver. She was a nasty old biddie but I loved her. He was a dirty old man but a fabulous painter. They just need time. They need their feelings, they need to cry, and sometimes, they need to cry alone.