Each month, Rising Voice highlights a guest contributor whose insights, creativity, or lived experience feels especially resonant. Consider it a handoff of the mic.

This month, I am passing the mic to Jillian Grady.

Love, Practiced to the Very End

Hospice is frequently misunderstood and, in many minds, equated with imminent death. What is often overlooked is the true focus of hospice care: quality of life, honoring the wishes of patients and families, and easing physical and emotional distress at the end of life—and in the months that may precede death.

After my mom suddenly passed, I had absolutely no idea what to do with my life. One month before her passing, I had made the bold decision to pursue a career in healthcare. Little did I know it would become one of the most challenging, rewarding, and beautiful chapters of my life.

I had the privilege of working in Oncology with patients who required hospice care, either at home or in a facility. The process itself is straightforward: the oncologist writes a referral, a hospice agency accepts the patient, and education is provided to both the patient and their family. After an initial evaluation, a plan of care is established. Most patients receive visits from a home health aide three times a week, nursing or nurse practitioner visits twice a week, and have access to 24/7 phone support.

Home health aides provide far more than basic care. They change linens, offer comfort, and sometimes paint a patient’s toenails the most beautiful shade of pink. If a patient is asleep during a visit, they will often stay quietly by their side, offering the simple but profound gift of presence. As patients decline, visits increase in frequency, with nursing often moving to daily support. Throughout the process, patients are supported physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

During my time in Oncology, I became close with a patient named Lester. He wore a bright yellow cardigan, a golf polo, and khakis to every appointment. He drove his beautiful Lincoln himself until his final hospital stay and walked a mile a day at the age of 97. His stories, his smile, and his unwavering love for saltines and Jell-O always made me laugh.

One day, Lester arrived at the clinic looking frail, with a low pulse that led to a three-week hospital stay. He never left the hospital. He was placed on hospice services, and I visited him almost every day. After each visit, I questioned myself: Is this helping him? He looks so good.

And the answer was yes.

Hospice did not cure Lester—but it gave him comfort, dignity, and peace. He received spiritual support, spent time with his family, and was cared for with intention and respect until the very end. My last words to him were, “You look great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Hospice is the practice of compassion, care, kindness, and love in our final moments on this earth. After witnessing patients endure agony during treatment, and then seeing the peace hospice can provide, I believe deeply in its purpose. We are meant to enter this world with love, warmth, and care—and we deserve to leave it the same way.