Captain Ron’s VIEW FROM THE BRIDGE

November 2009

Several years ago I received a call from a pastor in my denomination who had had a member of his congregation move to my area.  The member in question was no longer able to live alone and had moved in with her son and daughter-in-law.  I was asked to go visit and help make the woman welcome.  Because the caregiver children were not active in the church it meant I would also need to seek volunteers to assist the transplanted senior citizen to get to church on Sunday.  It wasn’t all that difficult and it resulted in helping the woman regain a sense of having some roots.  The people were unfamiliar but the faith that had sustained her through life was still nurtured through worship, fellowship and visits from me.  It wasn’t an uncommon scenario; I had made the same request of others when one of my flock relocated elsewhere.

The number of Hospice patients who experience dislocation is significant.  Sometimes they have moved here to be with a son or daughter and have never really made new connections.  They’ve outlived many of those they knew in their former home.  Sometimes a move from home to care facility becomes necessary if caregivers are stretched beyond their capacity to meet certain acute medical needs.

Most of us have relocated several times in our lives.  My wife and I once counted the number of different addresses we had between the time we left home after high school and the time we finally settled in to buy a home and begin a family 11 years later.  Eleven was the magic number.  An average of one move per year for over a decade.  Not surprising we’ve had only three addresses after that.  We spent almost 15 years in our first house here.  When we moved it was only 3 blocks and it was into a place suitable for my wife’s mother to move in.  We, too, became caregivers to one of the dislocated.  We have seen first hand the effect of ‘mom’ closing the doors on her 50 years in Boise, parting with beloved friends and possessions, leaving the church she and my wife’s father helped to start lo those many years ago.

Access to medical providers has been an important piece in helping ‘mom’ settle in here.  Providing support to keep her driving to church and pinochle at the senior center helps us all.  She has freedom and we are not yet caring for a homebound parent.  Familiar foods, familiar activities all help fill the empty space.  For those who relocate and don’t have access to familiar routines the emptiness remains a painful void.  There will be future loss of abilities; it is nature’s unbreakable rule.  As we age we lose touch with the life we have known. We will all need to face that loss and adjust as we can.

For those who find themselves as caregivers it behooves us to help our dislocated seniors to make new roots.  They will never be as deep as the ones left behind but they can nonetheless nourish body, mind and soul.  Helping them to talk about it is both informative and cathartic.  Feelings of grief and loss need to be expressed and ideas for adjusting need to be discussed.  We remind ourselves that our actions now are teaching our own adult children how to care for us when our own dislocation comes.

I still receive the occasional call from a pastor in another area.  I gently explain that I am no longer serving a congregation but have gone into the ministry of Hospice.  I provide contact information for other pastors so as not to create a dead end.  I know from that side of things how hard it is when there is no one like me on the receiving end of a relocation to accept the duty of providing soul-care.

Hospice is a place where we acknowledge dislocation.  It brings mental anguish, emotional grief and spiritual distress.  It is a reminder that time flows only one way, like the waters of a stream seeking the path to the ocean.  Just as the ocean receives all waters, so death will receive all living things, us included.  We cannot stop water from flowing down or humans from winding down.  What we can do is make sure that the quality of life is the best it can be at any given time and place.

Rev. Ron Jetter, Executive Director                                                                                                                     Lower Valley Hospice and Palliative Care

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