Hospice Loving Heart Memorial

Hello Everyone,

Welcome to the first Loving Heart Memorial.

All of us here this evening have played a heartfelt part in the cycle of life. The cycle of life promises that a life which comes into this world will eventually leave this world.

What is life? No living thing creates life. Life is recreated. Life is here and there it is again. Before the coming of that little blue strip, a very certain prediction of a new life on the way was the slow caressing of the tummy by a woman just receiving the news: a new life is coming – a new life and a new heart.

Sonograms are the way of confirmation now. The beginnings of life can actually be seen on a screen. The beating heart can be seen as a pulsation. The beating heart can be heard as a raspy transmission of sound: “I am here. I am here. I am here.” Because of the cycle of life, the beating heart is only the beginning of a story . . . a story that must end. But, no story consists of only a beginning and an ending.

Here this evening we are celebrating “the rest of the story.” And guess what? We are all in this story. All of us here are in this story because all of us here have shared our loving hearts with each other and with so many who, at this moment, are not visible to us but who are here in spirit.   Those departed loved ones . . . and all of us

. . . are forever grateful to each other. Why? Because, no one of us was ever alone. Just by showing up, we loved and supported each other throughout the ending of the story.

Listen closely. You can hear the departed loved ones agreeing and saying, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Many of us here shared our loving hearts as professional caretakers. We are personal needs providers, housekeepers, nurses, clergy, and administrators. Some of us are volunteers. In these capacities, we came into the story very close to the end of the story.

Many of you were there from the beginning. You are parents who have lost children. Many of you were there very close to the beginning, having married young and stuck it out through the proverbial thick and thin. You kept your promise to be there “until death do you part.” Many of you are children who have lost parents. Many of you are friends who have lost friends. There are an infinite number of these associations.

From the film Love Story© comes a phrase: “Love means never having to say you are sorry.” This concept is, of course, a complete fiction as well as being an impossible achievement.

The beauty of the hospice experience is that we get another opportunity to say, “I am sorry.” . . . an opportunity to transform regret . . . an opportunity to be sure that someone we might have taken for granted knows that they are loved . . . that they were always loved. Hospice gives us an opportunity to help write the end of the story.

Instead of regret, there is forgiveness. Instead of rejection, there is acceptance. Instead of tears, there can be laughter. The beauty of hospice is that omission can become confirmation and joy.

Some of you may feel that your loving hearts are broken. At the end of the story, those left living may have aching hearts, but they are not truly broken hearts because they are still beating hearts. They are loving hearts. At the end of the story, those who have left us still have loving hearts. Only now, they are quiet hearts.