Sarah House blogs

Sarah is Back!

Mon, 04 Feb 2008 13:54:19 -0800

Sarah is Back!

Our house dog, Sarah was kidnapped in November 2007 from Sarah House. An animal control officer phoned Debbie, our House Manager, to tell her that Sarah had been found roaming the streets not to far off from where she had been taken.

Kind Host

Wed, 23 Jan 2008 15:50:48 -0800

The holiday party on the 15th of December, 2007 at Sarah House, was more than a celebration of Joe’s birthday but also a chance for me to meet his family, other clients, and the staff and volunteers that I have never seen face to face. We were able to see Sarah House in operation, share our experiences about Sarah House, and enjoy the entertainment and food. As a volunteer in the office, many names and stories pass over my desk, but it means more when I can associate a real person with those names. Sarah House is about people. Those who take advantage of the services it provides, the staff and volunteers at the house, and all of those who support the administrative and fundraising activities to make Sarah House the success it is. We are a diverse family, all members of whom are needed to make it work.

This was written by our faithful and hard-working volunteer, Ken.

Rose's Garden

Wed, 23 Jan 2008 15:43:38 -0800

Flowers. Purple flower painting above your head, a purple flower unfurling in rectangular splendor. You lying underneath the purple flowers, colorful quilts covering your thin body. You were still beautiful, as a woman is, at 99. I sat next you to you, pulled up a collapsible chair and sat with you when you were in the middle of dinner. Repast was meatloaf, I think with mashed potatoes. A wonderful, steaming creation made with heart by Darlene. You kept dabbing your mouth and I spoke about nothing. The weather, the fires, this and that. I guess just to hear my voice, to fill the room with my sound. I stopped and said, Rose, tell me to be quiet. I know I’m talking incessantly. She replied “ I don’t like to talk during dinner.” She ordered me to come back with a bowl of hot food and sit with her. I did so. “I am a florist”, Rose had proudly told me. The title of florist had seeped into her skin, into her Way. She was indeed a florist, she was indeed a flower. She helped me water her beautiful potted flowers, a collection including a purple orchid and some pretty orange Gerber daisies. I would bring each pot to her so she could stick her fingers in and check the soil for me.

Extraordinary Kindness

Wed, 09 Jan 2008 11:21:05 -0800

Extraordinary kindness in word and in touch and in deed. It is about paying attention and then, in a busy world, making time center on what might make our residents happy…

A few weeks ago, it was preparing all the stuff for John’s children so that they could enjoy a taco bar luncheon on what turned out to be the last day that they had with their Dad.

It was helping Maria find the perfect pillow while secretly confiding in her that we suspected that it didn’t even exist.

It was putting The Notebook seven nights in a row on the television so that Tom could have another good and cathartic cry.

Sweet Dreams

Wed, 09 Jan 2008 11:16:48 -0800

People want their hands to be held and attention to be paid. They want an arm over their shoulder and to be held onto tightly.

It is also probably why Helen, one evening before she died, told one staff member, “I think you should make this a rule “Every night you should say to each of us, Good night and sweet dreams and then kiss us on the forehead.”

Bwana's Song

Mon, 26 Feb 2007 12:01:22 -0800

Gavin is a remarkable man who came to live at Sarah House in mid 2006. He had been living on the streets for years, suffering from a decade of schizophrenia with great bravery. Headaches had driven him to SB Cottage Hospital Emergency Room. Two days later he was being wheeled out of surgery, diagnosed with end-stage lung cancer that had metastisized to his brain.

Surprising the doctors more than anyone, Gavin has not yet died. In fact, he only recently moved back into his room at Sarah House after several months of independent living. He brought with him a beautiful little African finch named Bwana.

Kindness

Mon, 26 Feb 2007 11:53:05 -0800

Recently a woman living through her last weeks of HIV moved into the House. Her T-cell count was 1. Veronica had lived the last few months in the Psychiatric Health Facility. Now she was dying. Veronica's life had been hard. Not only was she ending many years of HIV, but she had also a long life story of addiction and serious mental health issues.

But once again, it was Veronica herself who spoke with great clarity and nobility about dying well and living well.

On the day she moved in, nervous and concerned about how the others would like her, Veronica extended her hand quietly to the first staff person to whom she was introduced. "I respond really well to kindness," she said simply.

"The Professionals"

Sun, 13 Aug 2006 12:29:59 -0700

Marie asked me today if I though that she would possibly be going home. I held her hand and said, "No. No, I don't." "I didn't think so,"she said gravely.

Tonight she asked me how much time that she had. I told her that she is "at the end of her life in the large sense, but from my experience you are not dying yet."

"What wil it be like?"

"Well, you'll sleep a lot more than you are now. And you will start to be somewhat detached from the things of this earth. For example, you won't laugh at my jokes anymore."

"Ha!" she said. "I wonder what I'll be given to do in heaven."

The Power of Poetry

Fri, 04 Aug 2006 12:16:49 -0700

Right now several of the people who have come to Sarah House for hospice care are women who are well into their nineties. To our delight, despite everything, they are chatty, witty, delightful and delighted.

One of these good women has been sharing her poetry with us. She calls it doggerel but we think it is pretty good. It is also often touching.

A sample:

“The phone is strangely silent.

It no longer clamors as before.