He, My Patient. I, His Chaplain.
Capturing humanity, mortality, and the gift of life
Hey, friends.
I hope you’re doing well.
Yesterday, after I got off work, I sat in my car for a few minutes—as I often do before heading home—and reflected on my shift. My mind wandered back to a patient I cared for years ago in the very same trauma bay where I spent most of my day yesterday.
These words spilled out in about five minutes.
I’m not much of a poet, so bear with me.
(Details altered to comply with HIIPA guidelines)
I watched the moment
his consciousness faded into oblivion—
floating away
like waves upon the sea.
He, my patient.
I, his chaplain—
His hand in mine,
my patient, once full of life—
now still,
in the quiet clutch of eternity.
His family gathered near,
telling stories of who he had been—
memories, laughter,
the spirit that had shaped
the arc of his life,
now engraved
upon hearts still beating.
He, my patient.
I, his chaplain—
and for a fleeting moment,
I was given a glimpse
of the breadth
of an entire life.
More by Devon Comp
Margaret.
Details have been altered to protect patient privacy and ensure compliance with HIPAA regulations.
This is beautiful. And what a gift for the family to have you there. In that moment when our precious loved one passes from our visibility, it is a comfort beyond words to have such a compassionate and empathetic chaplain there as a witness and encourager. Blessings to you ~ Gilda