By Liyna Anwar Emma Bowman
[W]hen patients are near death, and don’t have loved ones to be with them, David Wynn and Carolyn Lyon rush to the hospital.
“They have no one for various reasons, you know, they’ve outlived family, they’ve never married,” Lyon says.
For about six years, Lyon has been comforting patients in their final hours at St. Joseph Hospital in Orange, Calif.; for Wynn, it’s been about nine years.
“For some reason I always wonder about the person’s mother,” David Wynn says. “She saw him first, and I saw him last. It was her and me that are the bookends of this person’s life. So each time that I leave a patient who has died, there is this element of sadness.”
But this kind of work also has its rewards. Wynn remembers one man who was estranged from his family.
“I was sitting there with him and I heard somebody at the door. Turns out it’s his son,” Wynn says. “And he, I guess, felt a little bit uncomfortable, and so he asked me to stay.”
Then, the patient’s daughter came in. “These are people who hadn’t seen each other in maybe 10 or 20 years,” Wynn says.
While the family members exchanged apologies, Wynn recalls the daughter saying, “I don’t even know why I was angry at you, I don’t even remember.”
“And they said, ‘We’re going to try to be a family again,’ ” Wynn says.
“You know, we talk about the last senses to go would be the sense of touch and hearing,” Wynn says. “And I hope that there was enough left of the dad that he had some sense that this bad situation had been healed through his death.”
Wynn says he felt honored, simply to witness that reconciliation, at the end of the man’s life.
Complete Article ↪HERE↩!