“Do you think we're all unique grandma?”
“Why dear, I've told you as much many times”
“Do you think you're unique?”
“I may not be a very exciting woman, but I am one of a kind. Why do you ask?”
'Because ever since your diagnosis when we all knew your time was limited, you still give us all the impression you have little to offer us in the way of advice or life lessons”
"Well dear, that's because I don't believe I do. Your grandfather was a police detective his whole career. He was a very important man. He saw different things from different people every day. Each day brought something new, a new lesson to be learned, and he shared those stories with you all as much as he could. Me? I was just a wife who took care of the home. There isn't much to be learned from that.”
“But there is grandma. You are what some people call a steady force. You said it yourself. Grandpa saw different things every day. He saw the worst and the best of people and never knew what would happen when he walked out the door. Yet when he came home, he came home to you. He knew what to expect. There was stability there while there was none out there. I for one saw that, I have always looked up to you because of that, and I would love to hear more about how you gave him a stable, loving life.”
I'm a male nurse, and that was part of a conversation I overheard in a hospice one day. I decided it would be best to stop being a fly on the wall when the grandmother broke into tears.
The connection was made.