By Marygrace Lomboy, CRNP
A New Day…
His body is physically broken…
His spirit is intact, his mind is clear and he waits patiently for what will unfold.
Almost 100 years old, skin fragile and bruised, open wounds wrapped tightly with bright white gauze, his hands are shaking and no longer able to feed himself.
He lies quietly in his bed, listening to the sounds of Mozart while the beep beep beep goes off in the room next to him. He is not bothered by the onerous sound.
When I ask him if I can do anything for him, he answers in a quiet weak voice, “all of my needs are well satisfied”, and thanks me.
He tells me of a time when he grew up on a farm, milked cows and went to a one room school house. He smiles gently and remembers… He is too weak to tell me all that is on his mind and all of the memories.
I hold his hand and time stands still.
He is bedbound, unable to even turn himself in bed, but he tells me that the day is always new…
He has hope, and looks forward to what the day will bring. He has so much appreciation to those who are caring for him. He tells me that every day is a gift, no matter where you are.
I feel an incredible sense of peace and gratitude when I am sitting at the bedside of this gentle man. He is quiet, he is listening, and he looks forward to a new day.