I thought I was giving a dying woman one last beautiful memory by helping her become a bride before it was too late. It wasn’t until her funeral that I learned our lives had been connected long before we ever met.
I started volunteering at a local hospice a few years ago because I thought I was good at sitting quietly with people.
I learned pretty quickly that I wasn’t.
Silence in a hospice is different. It has weight.
She was seventy, sharp as a tack, and somehow managed to make every nurse on the floor laugh.
Then I met Eleanor.
She was seventy, sharp as a tack, and somehow managed to make every nurse on the floor laugh.
The first time I walked into her room, she looked at my volunteer badge and said, “So they sent me the rookie.”
I laughed.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You still look
