This is remarkable... you have been on my mind since mid April when I started to close down NOFEC and consolidate files. I had been looking for your phone number... my voice said to contact you... You are all in my thoughts and prayers... when I think how long your father held on, I am just speechless..
You healed your relationship with him.. you were a blessing for him inspite of all that transpired.. and he knew it...
I pray his transition is gentle and nurturing... please keep us posted..
Thank you is such a small word to express what this website, and what your friendships mean to me. How empowering you each are, and have been for so many. My only hope is that during my journey of caregiving I to helped someone in some way. I am comforted to know that my father is at peace, however, this is truly my first major loss, and to be honest finding it very difficult to accept. When I have some time to heal, I will write more about my final days of being my father's caregiver. Many hugs to each of you, you all are angels. Robin
This is truly the hardest area of the boards to go to. Yet, it is also where we all find solace and strength to carry on. Our hearts are heavy with love and admiration and with deep sadness for your loss.
Please continue to post as you can. It is a positive way to work through the healing process. And, remember please, we love you.
I read your spotlight, and you have been and still are an inspiration to all caregivers.
As you work through the healing proces, I do hope you can continue to advocate better care for our elderly. I, too, have seen the "care" our elderly have received in facilities ... all too often it either borders on criminal or is criminal. Our elderly deserve to live out their lives with dignity and respect.
I was a Den Mother for a Cub Scout Troop many years ago. One Christmas, I made copies of Christmas carols for all the boys, baked a ton of cookies, and on Christmas Eve, took them to the 3rd floor of the local hospital. One entire wing of the floor housed elderly patients. The nurses were rather taken aback, but allowed us to go ahead. There was one elderly gentleman sitting in a wheelchair by the nurses' station. He had such a forlourned look on his face and kept his head down the entire time.
I took the boys down the hall and they were just singing their precious little hearts off! The patients who could came to their doors. Faces lit up, laughter filled the hall, and tears streamed down aged, wrinkled faces. I wondered how long it had been since they had heard children singing.
The boys would occasionally stop and talk with a patient, and even allow hugs. As we got ready to take the elevator, the old man in the wheelchair looked up and reached out a trembling hand. The smallest boy walked over to him and took the old man's hand and wished him a Merry Christmas. Then, he gave the old gent a loving hug and his copies of the songs.
I asked the nurse if he had any one visiting him and she said no, not until we came along. I took the boys visiting several more times, until one day the old man was no longer sitting by the station. He had passed on, but they had found the copies of the Christmas songs in his bedstand. My boys had become quite fond of the old man, but I told them that he had passed in peace and contentment because of their love for him.
I don't mean to ramble here, but what you said about the quality of care for our elderly should be of paramount concern for everyone.
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