Death Bed Confessions From Someone Who Has Heard Too Many Of Them

I believe we are put into certain places to do specific things for reasons we may never grasp nor understand. Maybe even never truly accept. But we do them anyway, and it's often for a calling.

Even if that calling makes no sense.

My calling is as a caregiver. I'm a nurse. Been one for over twenty-five years now.

That part makes sense to me; it's this next part that I never entirely understood.

Being the one to hear folks share their deathbed confessions.

Lots of people have written about them. They've woven tales about lessons learned from hearing some. Even gone so far as to drop in a prolific quote about how we should now choose to seize life because all our days are numbered.

But I always wondered how many of them have actually held someone's hand, looked into their eyes, heard their final words, and then that hand…that hand releases.

That, my friends, is the part I don't understand.

Yet, I accept it. I could even go so far as to say I feel it's a privilege. And even further to say that that is why I was also blessed with the love and gift for writing.

So that I could share some extraordinary human wisdom from people who had dreams they never followed.

But look. This isn't about me or how I've accepted this "burden" (or gift) of being there. It's not even about how I interpret these moments.

It's not.

This is about humanity, sharing a private moment with another human and then for you, YOU, to give your own meaning to it. Take what you need to from this. Leave some behind.

But please, make these moments mean something to you.

Yeah. That's it. You see, it only truly matters when you give meaning to it.

The top regrets from the death bed, as told to me.

I wish I dared to live a life true to myself… not the life others expected of me

"They all wanted me to become something, so I did. But along the way, I forgot who I am, and I never really honored myself." - my patient K.T.

By all accounts, he was successful, and there were people there who loved him. They all looked up to him, and truth be told, he's the type of person who has plaques dedicated to them. But he never fulfilled his true dream.

To write.

Yeah. To write. And in an ironic, or divine, twist of fate, I was there to hear that.

While he never did write (I never found out if it was to write for pleasure or as a pro), I decided I'd take it upon myself to channel his wish here. So in a way, he kind of is getting to write.

In a way.

Potential lesson: 

Be courageous and honor yourself. I want to share that K.T. wasn't UN-happy. He was happy, and he had a great life. This was just something he had always said he'd do when he was "successful," or on the weekends, or yadda-yadda…and then it was too late.

Eat the worm: aka I wish I had taken more risks

Sounds familiar, right?

I don't mean like skydiving or swimming with sharks risks. Instead, I'm referring to the kind of risks that your intuition says yes, do it, but you rationalize yourself into a "no."

And then spend the rest of your life wondering "what if".

You see, while we humans are intelligent as heck, we often rationalize ourselves into a safety net when our gut, our intuition says, "go for it."

M.T. never went for it.

She smiled as she shared. The smile indicated to me that there were some fond memories there. And that those memories weren't all bad or filled with regret or loss.

But in the moments when that smile faded, I knew, as did she, that there were moments when you should just "eat the worm."

Potential lesson: 

Sometimes, the things that scare us the most are the things we should be doing. Trust your gut. Trust your intuition. Eat the damn worm.

Friendship is underrated

She was alone. I was the only one there for her when she died.

We talked. 

We shared. 

We cried.

There were no friends.

She always believed that she had the strength to get through the tough spots on her own. She always felt that if you trusted too much, you might get hurt. She had always thrived on the fact that being an introvert meant you were always alone.

Until the day you realize you indeed are…alone.

Potential lesson: 

As a proud introvert myself, this was a gut-punch for me. Mainly because I kinda felt this same way. I don't have many friends and always pinned it on the fact that I'm introverted. Her loneliness made me realize that friendship(s) are way underrated. I'm making some long-needed phone calls as a result.

Surrender to happiness

Nowadays, there's this entire movement around self-love, self-care, and finding deep, inner happiness.

But it wasn't always that way.

There are people, maybe ones you know really well, who sacrifice their own happiness and well-being in the spirit of giving. While that may sound noble, the fact is that sometimes it's hard to give from an empty cup. 

Impossible even.

She didn't realize it till the end. That her own cup was never truly full and that giving of herself for the sake of others wasn't all that noble.

"Wasn't I worth it, Rick?" is what she asked.

She was. She was worth every moment she gave to others, but I know what she was really asking. She was asking if finding her own happiness, giving in to it, letting it wash over her may have made a difference in her life.

Her pain and regret were like a wave. She had never truly surrendered to happiness. Never.

Potential lesson: 

The airlines say it best… "put your oxygen mask on first." It literally is a matter of survival. Not just for one person, but for two.

I wish I'd have stayed home

Sometimes there is such trauma with patients that they can't speak. You feel it, though. You can see it in their eyes.

Even if you aren't sure WHAT they are trying to say.

His wife ran into the E.R. (emergency department) a few minutes after he passed. She said that they had had an argument. He had left in anger.

I knew then what his final look meant.

"I wish I'd have stayed home" is what he was trying to say.

Potential lesson: 

Anger never wins. Ever. Love. Just love.

The final wish

When I started this, I asked you to put yourself in the story. To give it your very own meaning.

Don't "see" yourself as the one in the bed.

See yourself as the listener.

Now go do something about it.

#NoRegrets

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