Universal Needs

The hospice facility where I volunteered was located in a densely populated area in Southern California. There were many unhoused people in the neighborhood, and so occasionally, folks with no identification or ability to speak would be placed in this hospice facility. The staff were mindful to encourage the volunteers to spend time with them because they often had no known family or visitors.

One afternoon when I checked in for my shift, I was told there was a man actively dying who was alone. I was handed a file with the name John Doe and directed to your room.

You had been non-responsive since you arrived a few days earlier. I sat down in the chair next to your bed and spoke my introductions out loud. I had learned in the hospice orientation that most people can still hear right up to the very end of their life, even if they can’t speak or respond in any way.

Your breathing was shallow and labored, and you were quite still with your eyes closed. I reached for your hand and cradled it gently. You didn’t respond to my touch or voice, yet I continued speaking out loud to you. I was with you for the afternoon, holding your bulky, calloused hand, doing my best to breathe and calm myself. I had never been with someone at the moment of their death and was feeling quite nervous.

My preconceived notions of dying were quickly dismantled that day. Although my heart was racing at first, your restful repose guided me into a space of calm. I focused on my breath, brought my awareness to my feet on the floor. I matched the rhythm of my breathing to yours, and soon I was at ease. Your needs were few in this moment, just presence, and so I was present and curious about you.

I contemplated your circumstances, the life story lost to time. I wondered if you had family or friends that were looking for you. Longing to communicate that you had a friend in me, I sat vigil beside you, singing quietly, telling stories, and holding your hand.

I thought about the things we all need, those universal needs that all humans require to survive. Food, shelter, clothing, companionship, and as a bodyworker I would add, touch. Specifically human contact. You may not have had all of those needs fulfilled throughout your life, but today, I would offer to you a hand to hold while you completed your time here.

I was with you until the end, your final breaths were peaceful. When I was certain you had passed, I gently placed your hand over your heart and said goodbye. After informing the charge nurse, I walked to the chapel. I was amazed by the mystery that placed us in one another’s paths for such a deep and meaningful moment, and I felt the joy that emerges from selfless service, I felt the essence of Humanity One- where everyone cares for each other, and all of our needs are meet by our web of interconnectedness.