Regret

The last week has been difficult. Both personally and professionally. As you know, a part of my work is in hospice. I love it. I love the connections that I have with my patients and their families. I love that they challenge me musically and suggest songs and groups that I may have never heard of. I love that I am growing as a person and a music therapist because of the experiences that they give me.

But what happens when you work in hospice and also have a loved one on hospice?

My grandpa had been on hospice for a month or so when my family got the call that he might only have a week or two left of his life. Although this news was to be expected at some point, my mom wanted to make sure we saw him before he passed. Now, I provide services at the nursing home he resided at, so I was able to visit almost twice a week. I had planned to visit him around 8:30 on Friday, September 20th, 2019. I was planning to provide some bedside music and say my final goodbye, just me and him. At about 6:50am, I was told that he had died at 5:00 that morning. The feeling of not being able to say goodbye properly wrecked me. Why didn’t I come sooner? Why did the nurse say he had 1 to 2 weeks left, but he died the next day? why couldn’t he wait just another day?

I ask these questions, yet I know that there isn’t an answer. I know that God had this planned from the start and we cannot control when someone dies. There is no one person who can predict the exact time someone will die. But I still asked the questions.

The day before my grandpa passed away, I got called to a patient’s house after hours because her family was requesting me. The visit went great. The family thought this patient was going to die that night, so I provided support for them through singing. By the look of the patient, I really didn’t think that the patient was going to die that night. She was alert and engaged. She suggested songs and sang along with me and her family. I really thought I was going to get another visit with her next week. This patient had suggested a song that I didn’t know. I attempted to sight read it, but I just didn’t feel comfortable. I told her that I’d bring it back during our next visit (in 4 days). She said “I look forward to that.”

Friday, Saturday and Sunday went by. Monday came around and I was planning to visit her that morning. I turn my work phone on to check the reports when I noticed that this patient had died on Saturday. Once again. Why couldn’t she hold on just a little longer? Why didn’t I know that song? Why can’t I be a better sight reader? Like before, there are no answers. Yes, I know a lot of songs. But there is no possible way that I’m going to know every single song that someone suggests. I can always play songs that are in the same genre/decade, but I may not know one specific song.

I felt a lot of regret this weekend. I wasn’t able to say goodbye to my grandpa and wasn’t able to play my patient’s favorite song. But I’m learning that it’s okay. I love my grandpa and know he loved me. I will always be his Corkey. As for my patient. I met with her three times. One of those times, her family called me because the cherished my visits. I made an impact. And that’s what matters.

With that being said. Here are two songs that were important to me this weekend.