Several years ago a dear friend was very ill and not expected to live. She, her daughter and I had traveled together to see a healing priest and she told me later that she knew God had healed her soul and her spirit while she was there, but was not going to heal her body.

When a loved one or friend dies, it is always a solemn experience. Filled with memories, traditions, respect and love, one only has to close one’s eyes to remember their goodness.

One such man died recently and was remembered and honored by more than 1,000 people. He neither sought nor needed earthly honoring, as he was a gentle and humble man, but because he was who he was, they honored him.

"Please Don't Leave Me Alone."

A person who is terminally ill and preparing to die often speaks these words. One of the greatest fears people have as they are dying is being abandoned and alone when their journey is ending.

Hospice nurses have long known that this fear far exceeds the fear of loss, pain or even death itself. I have often asked myself why this is true. If we believe that we came from God and will return to him one day, why are we afraid to be alone as we are dying?

Margaret was 90 years old and no longer able to stay alone in her own home. She had lived in the same small apartment for more than 50 years and was none too happy at being told it was no longer safe for her to do so.

She was admitted into the hospice center late one afternoon and settled into a lovely private room. She quickly fell in love with the place and the people she saw caring for patients there. The social worker called to tell me that Margaret wanted to see me and an attorney to “arrange” things.

Dear Trudy,
The youngest of my three daughters, Lisa, died of cancer in 2009. A year later, my oldest daughter, Linda, also died of cancer. Of course there is no way to describe the grief that followed. Soon after my youngest daughter died, a very close friend gave me a beautiful picture of butterflies. Attached to the picture was a lovely poem describing the wonderful change that takes place when a caterpillar becomes a butterfly.

It has been a running joke for years between me and my husband that if he sees me coming toward him with my hands raised, he will run like crazy.

He says it’s because I have told him often of placing my hands on a terminally ill patient as they are declining and if God is calling them home, they become immediately peaceful and often die within a few minutes.

I have often marveled at the words people utter just as they die. It has always been my belief that they are very important words, both for those speaking them and for those of us who are listening.

For years, these words were dismissed as nonsense, hallucinations or the result of medication and disease. Thirty-plus years of experience at the bedside of dying patients tell me otherwise.

Do angels make themselves known to us today? Do they appear to people, as they are both living and dying? Do our guardian angels direct our path, stop us from making wrong decisions and protect us from harm? Do we think angels only happen in stories and in scripture but not really in our world today?

Many years ago, my dad gave my mother a wonderful old book called Moments of Light, and when they both went on to heaven, it was left to me. I call it my treasure.

Each chapter is one small page in length and packed with a tender insight, hard to forget. Sometimes I pick it up and sit for a few minutes to read just one reflection and I know I am all the better for doing so.

I wrote this Christmas poem at St. Cecilia High School in Englewood, New Jersey, during my senior year. To this day, I can see myself standing in front of the English class reading it.

This very holy season of Christmas was celebrated at our school with great grace and solemnity, and we were asked to write something about it. My wish was then, as it is now, that all might draw closer to the little infant child in the manager and recognize and love him as our savior and our Lord.