Lucy is not her name, but for the sake of anonymity, let’s say I visited Lucy today, another of the ladies in her eighties. I certainly do hear a lot of interesting stories, and always learn something in the process. Her great great great great grandfather (or however many greats) came over on the Mayflower. Lucy is a tiny little thin woman; scrawny would be a good word. But she looked lovely with a brand new perm. I learned this afternoon that she has always dreamed of tap dancing. And so tonight, I saw her fulfill that dream, parading around in tap shoes and a white boa at the talent show. That’s one good thing about church talent shows. It’s never too late to showcase your talent, or your dream.
Lucy sat across from me at the dinner. She is as sharp as a tack mentally, and says she likes to hang around intelligent people. She told me what she has recently done. She had contacted and been visited by and signed up with Hospice. There are doctors, and nurses, and people who will come to your house, who will take care of whatever your needs may be, who will help bathe you, and provide your meals. Lucy wants to die at home, and not in the hospital. I greatly admire her for taking care of all that by herself. I didn’t even know it was possible to make all those arrangements before you are even sick, presumably to bypass the hospital altogether.
It’s not that she is expecting that to happen any time soon. But just in case it does, she is now ready. She has taken care of the Hospice and the tap dancing.
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