My Sister's Last Words: "I Like It Here. I Love You."

A letter for the team that cared for my sister Janet in her final days.

I walked to Tranquility from Wellstar Hospital on the afternoon of March 3rd. I had just received word that my sister, Janet, was accepted into inpatient hospice care. After seven days in the hospital with my sister, I needed the fresh air. I also needed the time to process the decision I made to commit my sister to hospice. There was relief and guilt associated with this decision.

Then I met you.

You were so kind and so understanding. When I described all my sister had been through over the last three and a half years, you listened with such empathy. I was relieved to speak to you because you knew everything I was telling you before I even told you. You’ve seen it, and you assured me Tranquility Hospice was the right place for her at this point in her life.

When you used the term “terminal agitation” and defined it for me, it was the first time I realized the seriousness of my sister’s condition. I still remember sitting across from you in Tranquility’s library when I learned I made the right decision. I saw it in your eyes. Thank you.

My sister died on the afternoon of March 9th.

Every day I visited her in hospice was special and difficult. Every day, I asked Dr. Amdur, Renee, John, and Cheryl to assure me that I made the right decision to admit Janet to hospice. Every day, you, the doctor, and all the nurses were so kind and patient with me. As I write this, I can relive that same feeling of calm and peace they gave to me when we talked.

Renee was the first hospice nurse I ever met. She was so kind to my sister and me. She admitted my sister and settled her, cleaned and comforted her. And that made me comfortable knowing my sister was in such kind and capable hands.

Then John. Wow. We had so many wonderful conversations. He told me, “I really like your sister. We have a special bond. And I know she likes me as much as I like her. She is so special.” John would answer all my questions, calm all my doubts, and be there for Janet and me whenever we needed him—a true servant of God.

I met Cheryl on the day Janet died. I remember that afternoon when my sister passed. I was in the room with the nursing assistant, and we seemed to realize at the very same time that my sister wasn’t breathing. The assistant called for Cheryl immediately. Cheryl came in and listened intently for a heartbeat. After a minute or so, she turned to me and said, “I’m so sorry. Your sister passed.” She shared my sadness.

Amazing people all. I felt like everyone I met at Tranquility was somehow related to my sister and me. That was the level of care, the level of love, that I felt from the moment I was introduced to you all.

Thank you.

Something else I learned about hospice that is so different from the world. There are no atheists in hospice care. I am a follower of Jesus. I realize how difficult it is to navigate faith in this world. Each of you respected me, but also was clear that death is a God moment. I remember knowing God was real at my first child’s birth. I felt that same presence when my sister died at 3:15 PM on March 9th.

We were holding hands. She opened her eyes briefly and said, “I like it here. I love you.”

Thank you for this gift to my sister.

With gratitude and love,

Charlie Paparelli