A Special Peace Comes Over Me Sometimes
Loren Hardin
The Ashland Beacon
This is the last of a three-part series about Doc; a sixty-nine-year-old country doctor turned hospice patient. During my initial visit Doc shared how he "almost died". While looking down upon his own body Doc said to himself, "I’m not ready to die. There are things I still have to do.” Two weeks later I asked Doc if he did them and he replied, "Yes I did. I contacted my attorney and completed my estate planning; I made amends with my brother, and I made peace with my Maker. Do you remember how it felt when you got out of school for the summer, when all your work was done? Well, I feel like a boy let out of school."
Five months later, to everyone’s surprise, Doc was still with us. Doc shared, “I was just thinking, it was like I had my bags packed and I was standing at the railway station waiting for the train, but the train never came. So, I just decided that since I’m still here I may as well live.” And live Doc did. He purchased a new Bose sound system, enjoyed watching “The History Channel”, prepared the Thanksgiving turkey from his wheelchair, and rode his scooter to the local grocery store to shop. Doc’s response to his illness exemplifies the hope that we hold for every hospice patient, “acceptance without resignation”.
Doc eventually became bedfast again as his illness progressed. It was evident that Doc was in his final stage of life here on earth. Doc was facing his final task of shifting his hope from the physical to the spiritual, from the temporal to the eternal. Doc told me, months earlier, that he only wanted to live if he had quality-of-life, so I asked Doc, "Do you still feel like you have quality of life?" Doc replied, "It’s funny how your definition of quality-of-life changes. On bad days I feel like I could go ahead and die, but I still have things I want to do. They aren’t big things anymore. I want to see my family, to be with them, to hear the voices of my grandchildren and my friends. You know, some people receive a special strength from the Lord. I’ve always been fortunate that way. A special peace comes over me sometimes. People think I’m sleeping, but I’m not. I just relax and a peace comes over me. It feels so good."
Well, Doc’s train finally arrived at the station, and it’s been several years since his departure. But I’ll never forget the lessons that a sixty-nine-year-old country doctor turned hospice patient taught this social worker about navigating life’s transitions. Thanks Doc.
"You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You. Trust in the Lord forever, because for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength," (Isaiah 26:3-4).
Loren Hardin was a social worker with SOMC-Hospice for twenty-nine years. He can be contacted at 740.357.6091 or at lorenhardin53@gmail.com. You can order Loren's book, "Straight Paths: Insights for living from those who have finished the course" at Amazon.
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