Months To Years Fall 2018 Months To Years Fall 2018 - Page 29

So, I stood there and cried. I cried for the tomboy who Was I an unethical social worker? Did kissing Ruth’s cheek spent the end of her life in a wheelchair. I cried for the do her some kind of psychological damage? Did crying at destruction of her face, and because she had been her graveside harm her son and daughter-in-law? I don’t banned from the swimming pool. I cried for the wartime think so. I would have preferred not to make a scene at her nurse, the faithful fiancée, the mother to every boy who funeral, but I don’t regret giving my love to someone who found his way to her door. I cried for her stubbornness and had given her love to so many. her loyalty and her unswerving devotion. I cried because I loved her. With Ruth, as with any other hospice patient, I used whatever action I believed would do the most good I had never cried at a patient’s funeral before and I never and cause the least harm. And the people who made cried at a patient’s funeral again. Only for Ruth. Only for the rule banning physical contact were not (as is so her. often the case) the ones doing the work, so they had no way to understand that sometimes human touch is the intervention that is most needed by people in pain. Peggy Hendry is a retired social worker who spent most of her career working with hospice patients. Prior to her social work career, she was a dancer and a professional craftsperson on the Renaissance Faire circuit. She and her husband also ran a video entertainment business at conventions. She received a master’s degree in movement therapy from the University of California, Los Angeles and, decades later, another master’s degree in social work from Arizona State University. Growing up, she was a shy, introverted, only-child “Air Force brat,” and quite lonely. Her parents sent her to study tap and ballet starting at age four-and-a-half, which she loved, and tried to make her play piano and violin, which she hated. She had found a home among dancers and actors, where the people in the audience were invisible in the darkness and other people gave her beautiful movement to do and brilliant words to say. She lives in Tucson, Arizona, with her husband and a dominatrix cat. 29