Rudy

When I arrived at Rudy’s home for my initial visit as a hospice caregiver, he was sitting slumped over in his wheelchair. His wife, Margaret, welcomed me and introduced me to Rudy. I knelt in front of him and assured him I would do all I could to help him be comfortable. Rudy nodded now and then but said little.

I told him I would enjoy helping his wife take care of him.

Days passed. Margaret and I had fun caring for Rudy, doing household chores, and visiting. I learned that Rudy was ninety-eight years old and had gotten his high school diploma at the age of ninety-two! He was a man of many talents and the joy of his six children. When Rudy died, I attended his service at a local church. After the service, his son, Marv, smiled and came over to me.

The first thing out of his mouth was, “What did you say to Dad?” The blank look on my face surprised him as I asked, “What do you mean?” He replied, “You know, when you first met him.” I still had no clue. Marv continued, “Something you said to Dad made him such a good patient after he’d been difficult for the rest of us.” I shook my head, saying I didn’t know what he was talking about. Then two of his siblings approached me with the same question. Marv said, “Just don’t tell Mom! Let her think you are wonderful in that you could handle Dad when the rest of us had trouble!” Hospice patients often feel that they are imposing on family members with their care; this may have been the case with Rudy. But the real secret, I believe, was my many prayers for Rudy.

God definitely softened his heart, big time, because I certainly don’t have that talent!

Marybeth Gessele