When Margaret Hubl passed away at the age of 89, her funeral became a testament to just how great of a grandmother she was. Margaret was an avid quilter, but it wasn’t merely a hobby of hers – it was her own way of letting her family know just how much she loves them. In honor of her legacy, her children and grandchildren decided to display all the quilts she has ever made at her funeral. They draped her beautiful creations over the back of the church pews as a way to celebrate Margaret and remember her thoughtfulness as the family’s matriarch. “Never did I imagine how many there were,” Christina Tollman, Margaret’s granddaughter, told TODAY. “We covered almost every single pew in that church. I never knew how many she actually made.” The quilts all looked gorgeous, but Margaret created each one of them for a very special reason. Margaret was already a mother of three when her sister-in-law passed away from a tragic accident. With no one left to care for her twins, Margaret and her husband, Henry, decided to take them in. Together, the couple raised all five children in a small three-bedroom home on their farm. Margaret first took up sewing to provide clothes for all her children, but as they grew up and started families of their own, she had to make the little ones something as well. That’s when she got into quilting. She began making them for each grandchild as they graduated from high school. “She wanted us to have something to wrap up and keep warm in when we went away to school,” Christina said. Margaret put a lot of thought into each quilt and who would be receiving it. “When we sat down to go through her things we found this — I call it a pocket notebook. Inside it says whose quilt she was working on, what day she put it in the quilt frame and which day she took it out,” Christina explained. As the years went by, Margaret put more time into making her quilts. Each grandchild received them as a gift on their wedding day. “I actually have three cousins that are not married, and the day of her funeral was the day that they got to see their quilts for the first time,” said Christina. “That was really kind of a neat moment.” Her family decided to display all these quilts during Margaret’s funeral, with each creation serving as a reminder of how much they were loved and how special their grandmother was. “This is the love that Grandma made for each of us. This is what she made for each of us to wrap up in when we hurt,” Christina said. “When we miss her.” Like a warm hug, Margaret’s quilts will continue to give her family comfort during the times when they need it most – even after she’s gone. https://preview.tinyurl.com/wqom2zz First Person is a daily personal piece submitted by readers. Have a story to tell? See our guidelines at tgam.ca/essayguide.
What people don’t understand is the beauty and joy to be found at the end of life. When I tell people I work at a hospice, they often say “that must be so hard.” But my favourite thing is hearing people’s stories, their experiences, their successes, their failures – the things that life has taught them. I love helping them share these stories with their family members. It helps the family members keep their loved one alive in their memories after he or she dies. I had a husband of a resident come in six months after she had died to say that he received a Christmas card from her, written to him while in hospice. He was tearful, but so incredibly grateful for this gift. He said the card helped keep her alive for one last Christmas. Hospice workers encourage conversations about things that want to be said and heard. We create time for families to connect, laugh and cry together. Mostly, we help create a legacy of the resident that will remain with their family. We have helped someone write letters to each of her children. We have sung favourite songs, played favourite games. We have celebrated birthdays, births, marriages, vow renewals. We have rolled people in their beds out onto the patio to sit in the sun. Often, this is their first time outside the four walls of a hospital or bedroom in months. How amazing it is to have such a thoughtfully designed building that can make this possible – feeling the warmth of the sun directly on their skin, hearing the birds chirping from the nearby feeder and breathing in the fresh air. I see how it provides the resident and their family with a sense of normalcy. This is where the best conversations happen. Families can forget, for a moment, about what is to come, and just enjoy the present. Hospice is a place that collects nurses and personal support workers such as me. The emotionally challenging work we do weans out the people who think it’s just a job. You do not just show up for a shift, put in the time, and clock in and out. You are responsible for providing this human being, who has lived a whole life, with the care and dignity they deserve as they finish it. We help ensure that all loose ends are tied. Sometimes, these things are big, such as arranging a visit from a miniature pony that one of our residents used to show. Sometimes they are small, such as staff sitting at the bedside of a resident who doesn’t have any family, holding their hand, so they don’t die alone. I have spent time working in hospitals, in long-term care and in the community as I searched for a place where the work that I did matched my beliefs of patient-centred care and individuality. After my first day at the hospice, I knew I had finally found my match. The loss of the residents we care for like family does not take a big piece of us with them but, rather, fills us with purpose and joy. The work we do gives us so much back that the word “rewarding” doesn’t even scrape the surface. I began working at the hospice in May, 2017. As much as I love the work and what we accomplish, I could never have imagined needing it myself. Shortly after I started, my father was diagnosed with cancer. Soon we were faced with the decision I have seen so many other families struggle with: Do we settle for adequate care in the comfort of our home or do we move to the hospice where we will receive excellent care but in an unfamiliar location? The decision was easy for me, but not so much for my mom. She was afraid that moving him to hospice meant she was giving up her ability to care for her husband. But my mom was relieved to discover that she could still conduct much of the care, even in our facility. She did not have to sacrifice one for the other. With the 24/7 nursing and physician support, Dad – after eight months of suffering from his illness – finally had some peace. During this time of comfort, he was able to give back to us something we will carry with us forever. He called us all in, on his last good day, told us all how much he loved us and reassured us that he never suffered. He was able to leave me with a recording, telling me what our relationship meant to him and that he would be with me through all of the big life events that he would now miss. The hospice isn’t a place where people come to die. It is where they come to live – to live well for the little time they have left. It is a place of celebration, connection, comfort and support. It is a place of safety for the dying and the grieving. Experiencing such care with my father has only fuelled my passion to ensure that as many people as possible can have a similar experience. British singer-songwriter James Blunt is best known for his sentimental heartbreak ballads “You’re Beautiful” and “Goodbye My Lover,” but his latest single “Monsters,” a tribute to his ailing father, is his rawest and most poignant yet. In his devastating new “Monsters” music video, an anguished Blunt, in an extreme close-up reminiscent of Sinead O’Connor’s iconic, one-take “Nothing Compares 2 U” clip, stares down the lens, his eyes welling up with tears, as he sings: “I'm not your son, you're not my father/We're just two grown men saying goodbye… So Daddy, won't you just close your eyes?/Don't be afraid, it's my turn/To chase the monsters away.” Blunt struggles to maintain his composure throughout the first half of video, so much much so that it’s almost uncomfortable to witness. And when the camera finally cuts to a wider shot, it becomes clear why he is so distraught, that he isn’t acting, and that his tears are very real. Sitting stoically beside him is his real-life dad, former cavalry officer Colonel Charles Blount, who is battling stage 4 chronic kidney disease. Last year on Good Morning Britain, Blunt spoke of his father’s serious illness and made a plea to possible organ donors, saying: "I've come on here to ask you what blood group you are. Some things have been going on in my life that I needed to write about. My father has not been very well, actually. He needs a new kidney and a kidney donor. And I've come on here to ask you what blood group you are. If you are an O-positive, I'll take it off you." (Blunt revealed that, sadly, he is not a match.) View photos James Blunt with his father, Charles Blount. (Photo: Atlantic Records) MoreOn the same U.K. morning program, Blunt spoke of the experience of writing “Monsters” after learning of his father’s kidney disease, explaining: "Really that has been an amazing moment, because when you realize your father's mortality, it's a great opportunity to say the things I'd like to say to him.” Fans, particularly those who have lost a parent or who are preparing to say goodbye to a sick parent, have taken to social media to praise the touching video, which went viral after William Shatner tweeted it to his 2.5 million followers. |
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