Hospice of the Comforter

When I first became a volunteer, I worked in Hospice of the Comforter's Volunteer department doing whatever needed to be done. One day in 2007 I overheard Volunteer Coordinator Susan Peoski talking on the phone with a patient’s wife. When Susan hung up, she told me that there was a patient whose wife needed someone to stay with him so she could go to choir practice. I said I’d do it.

Ralph had a condition called cerebellar ataxia. The symptoms were very similar to ALS – he was slowly losing his ability to walk and talk but his mind remained clear and alert.

When I first visited, Ralph could still talk, laugh and feed himself a little. Though Ralph was not really able to carry on a conversation, he had a sparkle in his eye and a beautiful grin. Over time, Ann told me stories about his WWII exploits, how he had been a gunner in an airplane which had been shot down over Belgium. A family took him in and hid him until he was able to get back to American troops. She told me about how she and Ralph met on a blind date, and how the first time she saw him, she knew she wanted to marry him.

I came to know Ann and Ralph’s beautiful faith and trust in God and saw how that faith guided them through their difficult journey. Ann's dedication to taking care of her husband was inspirational. So many times as young brides and grooms, we vow to stick with each other “in sickness and in health,” but we don’t really know what that means until we are faced with the sickness of a spouse. Ann was a living lesson and witness to that wedding vow.

After a couple of years, Ralph was completely bedbound. He could not speak. He could understand everything. Mostly I would just sit with my hand on his arm and watch television with him. We both loved college football so fall was especially good for watching games. Every now and then I could make him grin but he was slowly closing in on himself. His hands and arms became stiff and drawn up from lack of use. His eyes were often glazed.

In February, Ralph’s condition began to deteriorate. Ann was told that Ralph’s kidneys were shutting down. On my last regular Wednesday visit, he was totally unresponsive and his eyes were covered with a film. As usual , when I left I leaned over and gave him a kiss on his forehead. I whispered to him, “I love you, Ralph. It’s ok to let go.”

The next night my phone rang at 10:15 p.m. Ann told me that Ralph had died about an hour previously. I went to the Boersmas' home. Ann’s pastor and his wife, the crisis care nurse and I stayed with her until the funeral home came to take Ralph’s body away. On the way home, I thought it strange that I did not feel like crying. I was just so glad that Ralph was free and was in Heaven. I knew I would miss him but how could I possibly be sad when he was finally where he had wanted to be for so long.

At the visitation, everyone heaped praise on several Hospice of the Comforter volunteers who had been involved in Ralph and Ann’s life during his illness. It was nice to hear, but for my part, I tried to convey what a wonderful blessing the love that Ralph and Ann returned to me was in my life. How thankful I am to have been in their lives but more importantly, that they were in mine. 

If you'd like a fulfilling volunteer experience like Suzan's, click here to learn how to become a volunteer.