A Volunteer's Calling (Poem)

                                                    

“Defining Moments” is a poem I wrote after a series of events led to my becoming a hospice volunteer. Hospice volunteering crept up on me unnoticed during the HIV-AIDS pandemic that was one of the world’s most serious public health challenges. Early in the 1980's, the Centers for Disease Control reported five cases of AIDS in young homosexual men in Los Angeles, California. By 1994, AIDS had become the leading cause of death for all Americans ages 25 to 44.

Before the 1990's, I was not attracted to being actively involved in the healthcare field. I also wasn't skilled in caregiving at a personal level, sometimes feeling awkward around sick people in general. Nobody is more surprised than yours truly that I have been a satisfied hospice volunteer over 20 years involved with bedside caregiving in nursing homes, eldercare consulting, authoring a book, and eldercare blogging. You can read about my compelling transformation that includes a video in this LinkedIn article titled "Hospice Volunteer? No Thanks, Not Me!" (Video 3:25).

“Defining Moments” is one of 16 original poems at the end of each chapter of my book titled Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes. Several readers have told me that “Defining Moments” resonates with them when they read it. As a writer, I appreciate knowing when something I have written connects with other people. But I was especially surprised one day when a man I did not know well had actually memorized the entire poem and approached me while reciting it aloud. This was followed by his sharing a heartfelt explanation of a defining moment in his own life. Perhaps this poem will remind you of a defining moment in your life when past met future.

Defining Moments

They come without warning,

grab us in chokeholds of change,

fling us into outer space

where past meets future.

In this realm resonating

with first-time knowledge,

we awaken wide-eyed,

infused with wisdom

to turn around, stand still

or move forward with clarity.

No matter how they smack,

stroke, lift, drop, push, kiss

or kick us to get our attention,

when they finish their mission,

we are permanently scarred.

© Frances Shani Parker

 

 

Frances Shani Parker, Author
Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback and e-book editions in America and other countries at online and offline booksellers.

Frances Shani Parker's Website

Amputee Outruns Hospice Marathons (“World Champion" Poem)

Skoney, a diabetic amputee who was also mute and partially blind, epitomized “down, but not out.” My hospice volunteer experiences with him at the nursing home inspired me to write “World Champion,” a poem about his long-distance death journey. Although Skoney endured several close calls with death, he repeatedly overcame them until he eventually died one day. Observers couldn’t understand why he didn't give up sooner. Didn’t he know that death would make him free? Because he had no legs and was such a determined survivor, I viewed him as an Olympic marathon runner.

                 World Champion

                 Your bedridden body

                 wins survival marathons,

                 breaks records in life's

                 Olympic Games.

                 I touch your skeletal chest,

                 feel spirit of an aging heart

                 that outruns the Grim Reaper

                 in back-to-back wins.

                Some pity your amputated legs,

                anguished moans, unexpected

                comebacks when death

                competes with bare existence.

                No one claps or cheers

                for your personal-best pace

                toward the final race

                when you clear each hurdle.

               They don't understand

               why you won't give up

               when you defend each challenge

               to clock more blocks of time.

               Your laps for life press onward

               as you struggle to the finish,

               grin like a world champion

               each time you grab the gold.

               © Frances Shani Parker

Frances Shani Parker, Author

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback and e-book editions in America and other countries at online and offline booksellers.
Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog

New Year’s Eve Party in Long-Term Care (Alzheimer's Dementia Poem)

As a hospice volunteer in Detroit, MI nursing homes for many years, I learned a lot from quietly listening, observing and analyzing residents. Many had dementia, and I valued their thought-provoking interpretations of reality and unique forms of expression. 

I wrote the poem "Mealtime Party" after participating in numerous mealtimes and parties with residents. This carefree poem includes combinations of actual scenarios that took place. What do I know for sure? I know I visited weekly an Oz I respected and became a better person. Join Lurania and her nursing home friends right now. Today she gives someone else her name and hosts an imaginary party for herself.

Mealtime Party

“Come to your party, Lurania! Have some tacos!

We’re singing in Spanish!” Lurania exclaims.

Her two-part conversations go back

and forth like a tennis match with one player.

Today Lurania gives someone else her name

and hosts an imaginary party for herself.

Next to Lurania sits sleeping Mary.

A purring snore drifts from her open mouth,

a canon too tired to fire. She searched

all morning for her slippers

until she found them on her feet.

Now she salsas in her dreams.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5...!” yells John, who thinks

Lurania's party is on New Year’s Eve.

He holds up his milk carton and shouts,

“Happy New Year!” John knows

the wish everyone wants to hear

as 12:00 noon begins a new year.

Grace still wears the glow of a woman

who’s been in love. Her so-called boyfriend,

a nurse aide sixty years her junior,

blushed when told of her romantic fantasy.

Even though she “dumped” him,

their friendship will be a lasting flower.

“You know, Olga has been my sister

all my life,” Miller announces. I remind him

that yesterday Olga brought him

a chocolate chip cookie. Miller flaunts

a grin, satisfied that the streetcar

of his life looks great, rides just fine.

“Everybody can come! Lurania's parties

are wonderful!” Lurania hollers, intoxicated

with laughter resonating like a trumpet.

Everyone should come and marvel

at the magnificence of minds that dance,

turn somersaults to create happy realities.

© Frances Shani Parker (poem excerpt from her book Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes

Frances Shani Parker, Author

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback and e-book editions in America and other countries at online and offline booksellers. Visit Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog and Frances Shani Parker's Website.

Hospice Volunteer’s Alzheimer’s Dementia Poem Praising Ancestors

This sign from America's Jim Crow era reminds me of a painful history I share with many. After the Civil War ended in 1865 and continuing to the Civil Rights Act of 1964, government Jim Crow laws legally enforced racial discrimination, particularly against Negroes. These laws institutionalized numerous inferior economic, educational, and social practices far below and sometimes non-existent compared to advantages white people received. Negative ramifications continue today impacting victims, their families, their communities, and the entire nation with long-term burdens and losses of productivity.

In an urban nursing home, I was inspired to write this poem while watching my African American hospice patient sleep. I thought about our shared heritage that bridged our communication beyond her Alzheimer’s dementia. This poem is written in praise of her and everyone’s ancestors who have endured racial-ethnic oppression. Their resilience gifted us with sustaining stories of joy, pain, courage, and survival that go far deeper than words.

Deeper Than Words

The outside world arrives
wearing my willing face.
Toothless, your smile widens
like a baby’s hungry for attention.
Almost ninety-eight years old,
your inner candle still glows.

A hospice volunteer, I lean closer,
talk into your listening left ear,
“Today is Sunday, Miss Loretta.”
My news drifts away like smoke.
You stare at me through dying coals.
Whatever I ask, you whisper, “Yes.”

I stroke your age-softened arms
while your hazed mind masters sleep.
Watching you, I dream generations
of women black and strong, each one
a book of sustaining stories
about joy, pain, courage, survival.

Within your warm brown frame,
spirits from our common history linger.
Aides say you have dementia,
that you don’t know a word I say.
Our language goes deeper than words.
We speak to each other’s souls.

© Frances Shani Parker
Excerpt from Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes


1) Visiting Someone With Alzheimer’s Dementia: Emotions Without Memories (Research)

The post link below reminds us that the emotional lives of individuals with Alzheimer's can be greatly influenced by experiences, people, and places they do not recall. 

https://hospiceandnursinghomes.blogspot.com/2015/11/visiting-someone-with-alzheimers.html


2) Children Learn About Alzheimer's Dementia: School, Family Support (Video 3:51)

An educator who has been actively involved with introducing elementary-middle school children to the nursing home world and dementia for many years, I have always been impressed with the sensitive ways they embrace knowledge about this disease. Click link below for more information about this form of teaching-learning called service-learning.

https://hospiceandnursinghomes.blogspot.com/2016/03/children-learn-about-dementia.html


Frances Shani Parker, Author
Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback and e-book editions in America and other countries at online and offline booksellers

Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog

New Year’s Eve Party, Alzheimer’s Dementia Poem

Being in the moment can bring great awareness. As a hospice volunteer in Detroit nursing homes, I learned a lot from quietly listening, observing and analyzing. Many residents had dementia, and I valued their thought-provoking interpretations of reality and unique forms of expression. I wrote Mealtime Party after participating in numerous mealtimes and parties with residents. This carefree poem includes combinations of actual scenarios that took place. What do I know for sure? I know I visited weekly an Oz I respected and became a better person. Join Lurania and her nursing home friends. Today, Lurania gives someone else her name and hosts an imaginary party for herself.

     Mealtime Party

     “Come to your party, Lurania! Have some tacos!

     We’re singing in Spanish!” Lurania exclaims.

     Her two-part conversations go back

     and forth like a tennis match with one player.

     Today, Lurania gives someone else her name

     and hosts an imaginary party for herself.

     Next to Lurania sits sleeping Mary.

     A purring snore drifts from her open mouth,

     a canon too tired to fire. She searched

     all morning for her slippers

     until she found them on her feet.

     Now, she salsas in her dreams.

     “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5...!” yells John, who thinks

     Lurania's party is on New Year’s Eve.

     He holds up his milk carton and shouts,

     “Happy New Year!” John knows

     the wish everyone wants to hear

     as 12:00 noon begins another year.

     Grace still wears the glow of a woman

     who’s been in love. Her so-called boyfriend,

     a nurse aide sixty years her junior,

     blushed when told of her romantic fantasy.

     Even though she “dumped” him,

     their friendship will be a lasting flower.

     “You know, Olga has been my sister

     all my life,” Miller announces. I remind him

     that yesterday Olga brought him

     a chocolate chip cookie. Miller flaunts

     a grin, satisfied that the streetcar

     of his life looks great, rides just fine.

     “Everybody can come! Lurania's parties

     are wonderful!” Lurania hollers, intoxicated

     with laughter resonating like a trumpet.

     Everyone should come and marvel

     at the magnificence of minds that dance,

     turn somersaults to create happy realities.

© Frances Shani Parker (poem excerpt from Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes)

Frances Shani Parker, Author

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback and e-book editions in America and other countries at online and offline booksellers.
Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog

African American Hospice Caregiver: Patient, Dementia Poem

With federal marshals guarding her from angry mobs in 1960, first-grader Ruby Bridges integrated William Frantz Public School in New Orleans, Louisiana, my hometown. In protest during the first year, all parents withdrew their children from the school.

Dying is universal. A hospice volunteer, I come together with my patients as strangers and often discover, even in our differences, that we share similarities that bond us to higher levels of understanding of one another and ourselves. Shared similarities can include race, language, talents, occupations, travel, values, joys and even common pain.

My book Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes concludes each chapter with an original poem. I was moved to write the poem Deeper Than Words while watching my hospice patient sleep. I thought about our shared African American history that bridged our communication beyond her dementia. This poem is dedicated to Miss Loretta, Ruby Bridges and our awe-inspiring ancestors.

Deeper Than Words

The outside world arrives

wearing my willing face.

Toothless, your smile widens

like a baby’s hungry for attention.

Almost ninety-eight years old,

your inner candle still glows.

A hospice volunteer, I lean closer,

talk into your listening left ear,

“Today is Sunday, Miss Loretta.”

My news drifts away like smoke.

You stare at me through dying coals.

Whatever I ask, you whisper, “Yes.”

I stroke your age-softened arms

while your hazed mind masters sleep.

Watching you, I dream generations

of women black and strong, each one

a book of sustaining stories

about joy, pain, courage, survival.

Within your warm brown frame,

spirits from our common history linger.

Aides say you have dementia,

that you don’t know a word I say.

Our language goes deeper than words.

We speak to each other’s souls.

© Frances Shani Parker

Frances Shani Parker, Author

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback and e-book editions in America and other countries at online and offline booksellers.
Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog

Caregiver–Patient Poem: Hospice, Dementia Aha! Moment with Music

Caregivers who embrace patient care with win-win expectations know that aha moments can come at any time. Meaningful conversations and feelings drift into a now/here place that helps us worm our way from the unknown to the known. Aha moments are not forced or always joyous and explosive occasions. Many times they are subtle, quiet with a settled satisfaction that brings whispered gifts of personal knowing about life lessons. One reason some people assume hospice work is depressing is that our aha moments with patients are not shared enough with people who are unaware of powerful scenarios we experience sometimes.

Recall a few of the aha moments you have known, especially those that made you better people. Many of you have had them. Share these enlightenments with others who wonder why you do this work or those who express a general interest in what your work entails. Aha moments can enhance lives of patients and caregivers.

This poem describes one of my favorite aha moments as a hospice volunteer. I had a very challenging patient whose name was Katherine. She usually lay in bed sleeping or looking up at the ceiling. I couldn’t tell if she was bored, unhappy, mellow, or all three. Rarely speaking, she never sat up on her own or walked. We mostly stared at each other while I talked.

Knowing that Katherine had been active in her Baptist church in the South at one time, I decided to use my CD player with headphones (this was before iPods, etc.) to help her enjoy music sung by Mahalia Jackson, whom many hail as the greatest gospel singer ever. After reading this poem, you’ll understand why it’s one of my favorite aha moments and why I still smile every time I read it. Share your aha moments with others, and you’ll be smiling, too.

Sounds of Ecstasy

Headphones frame your head.

You look at me, your volunteer,

wonder what they can be.

Mahalia Jackson’s song erupts,

“When the saints go marching in...”

Sleepy eyes widen like popped corn.

“It’s a CD player,” I say.

Your mental video rewinds

through time from the nursing home

to an Alabama church service

where bodies rock to music.

I join you clapping with the choir.

Your stiffened hands move

with a powerful energy that rises

like a resurrected hot flash.

“It’s wonderful,” you whisper.

Mahalia responds singing,

“Walk all over God’s heaven...”

I picture you joking with Death

when it’s your time to holy dance

to the Other Side of Through.

Mesmerized by the music,

you soak in every song.

A CD player exhilarates you

with sounds of ecstasy.

Such an easy thing for me

to bring, but before I leave,

you say you love me twice.

© Frances Shani Parker from Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes

Frances Shani Parker, Author

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback at many booksellers in America and other countries and also in e-book form at Amazon and Barnes and Noble booksellers.

Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog

Hospice Poem: Michigan Volunteer Honors Alzheimer’s Patient and African American Ancestors (Ruby Bridges)

Guarded from angry mobs by federal marshals in 1960, first-grader Ruby Bridges integrated William Frantz Public School in New Orleans, Louisiana, my hometown. In protest during the first year, most parents withdrew their children from the school.

Because my hospice volunteering is primarily in Detroit, Michigan, many people assume that all of my patients are African American. Actually, I have had several Caucasian patients who were in my care for years. Dying is universal. My patients and I come together as strangers and often discover that we share similarities that bond us to higher levels of understanding of one another and ourselves. Shared similarities can include race, language, talents, occupations, travel, values, joys, and pains.

I was inspired to write this poem while watching my hospice patient sleep. I thought about our shared African American heritage that bridged our communication beyond her Alzheimer's disease. This poem is dedicated to her and our ancestors, especially those strong and inspirational like Ruby Bridges.

Deeper Than Words

The outside world arrives

wearing my willing face.

Toothless, your smile widens

like a baby’s hungry for attention.

Almost ninety-eight years old,

your inner candle still glows.

A hospice volunteer, I lean closer,

talk into your listening left ear,

“Today is Sunday, Miss Loretta.”

My news drifts away like smoke.

You stare at me through dying coals.

Whatever I ask, you whisper, “Yes.”

I stroke your age-softened arms

while your hazed mind masters sleep.

Watching you, I dream generations

of women black and strong, each one

a book of sustaining stories

about joy, pain, courage, survival.

Within your warm brown frame,

spirits from our common history linger.

Aides say you have dementia,

that you don’t know a word I say.

Our language goes deeper than words.

We speak to each other’s souls.

© Frances Shani Parker

Excerpt from Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes

Honoring a Nun Who Has Alzheimer's Dementia

You can also read my tribute to a nun who positively impacted my life as a child and later developed and died from Alzheimer’s disease here:

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/honoring-nun-who-has-alzheimers-frances-shani-parker?trk=mp-reader-card

Frances Shani Parker, Author

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes is available in paperback at many booksellers in America and other countries and also in e-book editions at Amazon and Barnes and Noble booksellers.

Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog