There were times when things happen, I would tell myself it is all in my head. It did get dark and quiet on many of those thirteen-hour night shifts. There were times when a family member would stay up and talk with me. They needed support and that is why I was there. It did help the night go by faster, and it was great to have help when turning or changing a patient. I wouldn't watch television unless the patient wanted it on all night to sleep, or the family would turn it on and tell me to watch it. The television did help to keep me awake when it got quiet, but even with the noise and the company, there were still times when I felt the room get cold and see things out of the corner of my eyes. There were times when I would even smell things. These things would happen when I was alone with the patient, and when I wasn't alone with a patient.

I would smell things like perfume or smoke, and sometimes even aftershave. Sometimes I would hear things like whispers and people talking. There were many times when I just knew someone else was in the room, but it was just me and the patient. A perfect example is when I was taking care of a dying patient I'll call Sophie. I had been with this patient for a couple of days and knew it was going to be a little while before she would pass. This was my third day with her and the family was all there and had told her it was okay to go and be at peace.

Telling a dying family member it's okay to go and everybody will be fine, actually helps the patient to pass easier and not hang on. I have learned in my thirteen years as a hospice nurse, dying patients do hang on and wait. They wait for someone alive to come and see them, or for someone who has already passed away to come and guide them to the afterlife. There was none, according to the family, who still needed to visit the patient. Therefore, I figured she was wanting for her guide. Her husband was my first guess. The family had placed a big portrait of her husband at the end of the bed facing her.

The family all said goodnight and let me know who to wake up first if something happens, and the lights were turned down low. I had the light on next to the chair I was sitting in so I could chart. I believe it was around one or two in the morning and I saw something out of the corner of my right eye. I turned to see what it was and I was looking straight at the big picture of her husband that was at the end of the bed. Of course, I told myself my mind was playing tricks on me because the picture can't move and there were no animals in the home, so it was nothing. I am always telling myself it is nothing when I know it is something or someone.

This went on for a couple of hours. I would see something out of the corner of my right eye, I would turn and look straight at the image of her husband. Then I smelled something like aftershave and turned my head again and looked directly at that representation of her husband. I started to believe that her husband was here to help her cross over to the other side. As I continue to monitor the patient, she was showing more and more signs of passing. She was comfortable and peaceful. At five am she passed.

I woke the family who gathered at the bedside grieving in their way. The family left the room so I could prepare her body for transport to the funeral home. Sophie's son and daughter wanted to help prepare her. As a hospice nurse, I don't recommend this, but they insisted. The three of us bathed and dressed her for transport. As we did this and we talked about their mom and dad, I told them about my experience with the picture and the smell of aftershave. The son states he felt his dad in the home for the last week.

That made the hair on my arms stand up. I felt the coldness again when her daughter stated her mom and dad were together again. She also said she saw them standing hand in hand, and left. No matter if you believe in ghosts or an afterlife, it sometimes gives people comfort knowing the person who has died is with another family member. In this case, the son and daughter were comforted by the knowledge that their mother was with their father.