The Nurse and the Flower

The Nurse and the Flower

Sometimes we struggle with articulating our words to others and our thoughts to ourselves. In times of grief and pain, this can happen more often than not. When faced with sadness, how do we convey what we need to with mere language? Language can let us down when we need to express ourselves the most.

When a loved one dies, how do you express the enormity of it all? How can you release magnitude of your adoration, appreciation, desperation, dedication, and the honour in which you hold them?  When words fail us, we often fall to actions and symbols – acts of love and acts of service. When words fail us, and life is raw, our parched selves drink these up. It is at times like these, that we need to be able to surrender ourselves to those around us who can help translate these experiences through their own actions of love.

In my profession, I am fortunate enough to be able to get to know many of these healers who work in palliative care. Though their patient is dying, they heal all the same. These healing moments of reverence make all the difference to families.

Recently, a family had experienced a loss at the Chatham-Kent Health Alliance. Their nurse, Kelly had taken great care of the family. She even came in on her day off to be with the family as the final hours drew near – a true act of service and love. When we were about to leave the hospital room with their loved one, she produced a flower which she laid tenderly on the deceased.

A flower is often used in ritual, as it symbolizes so much. As funeral directors, we know you can say much more with a flower than you can say with words. When holding it and placing it, you are effectively bestowing reverence upon your loved one – letting all of the words and thoughts out of your mind without having to have your brain organize them. Kelly had truly given this family a gift, and I feel the dignity of this quiet moment will never be forgotten.  

Before we left, Kelly told me that if I ever found a flower with a loved one, I would know she had been there. I sincerely hope to see more flowers in the future, as more and more nurses follow her example. Because acts of kindness like these have the potential to go from singular moments to full on movements. Thank you, Kelly. Chatham-Kent is very lucky to have you.