I arrived at the hospice care center for my normal shift and asked one of the nurses if anyone was actively dying and alone. She said that Jen, a woman in her late seventies was transitioning, but was really struggling. When I entered Jen’s room, I found her laying in bed, eyes slightly open and her breathing extremely labored. Her body was tense and she had a very scared look in her eyes. I found out later that she had only one family member, a son, from whom she was estranged.

I took Jen’s hand into mine, introduced myself, took a seat next to her bed and said a silent prayer that I might be a channel of peace for Jen. I then surrendered to whatever feelings or sense of guidance came forward. After a few minutes of witnessing Jen’s anxiety, I felt moved to stand up and gently stroke her forehead. As I did this, Jen turned her head toward me. As I was doing this, a nurse entered Jen’s room ready to give her another round of medication to help ease Jen’s struggle. While the nurse was preparing Jen’s port in her right arm to receive the medication, holding Jen’s hand, I looked into Jen’s eyes and silently communicated to her “You are SO loved, You are SO loved”. Before the nurse could administer the medication, Jen looked into my eyes, relaxed and exhaled her last breath.