Before our dad went into hospice, we met with a hospice nurse and we asked for guidance.  Our question: Should we tell him that he was going into hospice care?  Hospice meant death to us, and so how could we tell him without his giving up hope?  The nurse began by reassuring us that the role of hospice was not to invite death or discourage wellness, but simply to provide a peaceful environment, without pain, and to let nature take its course.  She told us that some people actually got better with hospice care, and they were able to go home.  She encouraged us to be straightforward with our dad, but she acknowledged that some families opted not to tell their loved ones.

Honestly, we probably would’ve opted to not tell him, if we felt we could’ve gotten away with it.  The problem was, the hospice nurses and aids all wore name tags with the word HOSPICE prominently written across the top of the tag.  We couldn’t fool him.  And so we told him – carefully.  We told him that he didn’t need to be in a hospital anymore, but that he wasn’t well enough to go home.  We were going to move him to a place “run by hospice” and that he could receive his treatments there.  But, as delicate as we tried to be, he understood exactly what we meant.  He opened his eyes and grabbed on to us and, with clarity he said, “I’m sorry.  I tried.  I love you.”  He closed his eyes again, and that was the very last time he spoke with any of us.  He seemed almost relieved.  Maybe like his doctor, he was just waiting for us to be emotionally ready before he could say goodbye.  He arrived at hospice the next day and, as the nurse later told us, he said to her: “I’m ready.”  He died about 48 hours later.