A friend suggested I write about my experiences as a volunteer for hospice, but since the really good stories about hospice are confidential, there’s not much I can really talk about.

“But you’re good at talking about nothing,” my friend tells me. “You prove it time and time again when you blog!”

Indeed. That’s what friends are for: pointing out sad truths thinly disguised as compliments.

It’s true. I’m never at a loss for mediocre thought on the verge of dripping from brain to fingertips to keyboard. Fortunately for you, I keep my musings to a minimum.

But there are a few things about my job with hospice that I can safely talk about. It’s where I spend Thursday mornings: a ten-bed hospice facility in Appleton that relies on, and truly appreciates, its volunteers.

I find feeding, holding hands with, and talking to dying people to be quite satisfying. Whereas a lot of the people in my life who aren’t experiencing imminent death find me a bit of a bore, the hospice patients are grateful for my attention. They’re glad someone cares about them even though they won’t be around long and feel they have little left to give.

Here’s the thing: I absolutely love getting to know dying people. 1) The good cheer you bring to them is likely to last the REST of their life, and 2) they never pressure you into a long-term commitment.

A certain relative of mine (whom I admire for her astute observations and forthright manner) once told me I had a wonderful personality “on a purely superficial level.” Being hard to offend, I took it as a compliment. Now take a person like me, with this particular quality, and put her in a room with a dying person. What do you get? The perfect combination for a fresh, new, half-hour love affair each and every Thursday!