An Old Fashioned Love Song
by Fred Mortensen, Hospice by the Sea
There are some moments filled with evidence of precious love that do take your breath away. Every once in a while, we’re blessed enough to stumble over one. This one nearly eluded me, but I was fortunate enough to be a witness.
They were a charming couple, married over sixty years, and, as they put it, “In love a bit longer than that.” He was in our Boca Raton Care Center, knowing his life was drawing to a close. She was at his side, just as she had been all along. He was tired, wanted to talk, and when asked a question, would begin to answer, but then have to stop. She would be smiling at him, and when he stopped and looked over at her, she knew to take over for him. And then he would smile at her as she completed his thought. After a few minutes, you got the impression they had been completing each other’s thoughts for a while.
That first afternoon, I did most of the listening. She did most of the talking. He did nearly all of the smiling. It was a series of warm, intimate moments strung together by laughter, sighs, tears: Their first date, unknown to either parent and highly suspect in those days. Their first kiss on her parents’ front stoop, the porch light suddenly coming on. How he asked her father for her hand in marriage, sweating, hyper-ventilating and stuttering his way through the speech she had helped him write, while she hid in the hallway holding her breath and praying. Their wedding and honeymoon; her only comment: “He didn’t know as much as he thought he did.” Their first child. Their first apartment, followed by their first home. World War II. More children. A few tragedies along the way. Family vacations. The empty nest. Travelling. Retirement. And now, near the end of a quick illness and decline. They sat and molded their history through the storied memories of a thoroughly enjoyed life together, now being enjoyed again in the retelling of it.
What a treasure it was to listen to these two share what could only be described
as the sacred and most meaningful part of their lives. They didn’t know it, but they were teaching me the truths that make for a life and a love which endures.
He tired quickly, so it was time to leave them for the day. Offering a good-bye, leaving them in the room, I reflected on how fortunate they were to have this opportunity of reflection and life review. It allowed us to provide for the comfort and care of both these precious people so that they could be what was most important to them at this moment of their lives: bride and groom, friend and lover, together. It almost seemed appropriate to hang a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door.
The next day, I couldn’t wait to get down that west hallway to their room. When I arrived, the door was half closed. Before the customary knock on the door, I stopped because I heard this tiny, soft, tender voice. She was singing. I edged up to the sliver of space left partially open in the doorway. And I saw a wonderful thing. He was lying on his side, the bed partially raised. She was seated at the side of the bed facing him. He was too weak to lift his head any higher, so she had turned her head to the side so she could look straight into his eyes. She had reached through the bedrails to hold his face tenderly in her hands. He had a look of absolute delight upon him, smile on his face, eyes moist. She was smiling back at him, also with tears in her eyes, singing to her beloved … .”Let me call you Sweetheart, I’m in love with you. …..”
What do you do when you stand before devotion like that? I decided to be thankful for proof that love trumps tragedy, and I retreated. I could not intrude on this holy moment as they gave to and received from one another. But I went back later to hear more stories and was able to do so for a little while longer until his life here folded in upon itself and was gone. When that moment came, she sat with him for a long time. Then she collected their things and walked down the hallway to leave. There were trembling lips on the faces of the Hospice by the Sea team as they hugged her on her way. We thought we were showing her ‘how this is done’, but she is the one who taught us. She left, humming their song…. “Let me call you
Sweetheart . .. “
Hospice provides so many good resources that provide comfort, care, even hope. But there are times when we are surprised by love that comes from outside ourselves, gifted to us by the people we serve. They come to us from those who arrive in our care not because they choose, but because they must. They allow us to witness how it’s possible to arrive at this crossroads of life and yet be the healthiest and most whole they have ever been spiritually and emotionally. They may walk out of our lives, but never out of our hearts. And we thank them.