Hospice “cards:” remember the person’s sensory abilities
And another post in the hospice cards theme although I think the idea can also apply to your ethical will. I have a friend who lost her vision some time ago. But long before that, we had a fun, crazy time shortly after college that involved letters back and forth and Tillie Olsen‘s book Tell Me a Riddle. Every few years, we’ll remember the silliness we wrote back and forth, and still crack up.
If this dear friend were in hospice care, I would not send her a card. I’d pull out my Mac laptop, figure out how to record with it, and haul out a copy of Tell Me a Riddle and read my friend a few of the scenes that we loved, and I would be laughing doing it and making my own wisecracks to her about our letters, and in general, reliving that special, silly, meaningful time for us.
Then I’d burn the CD, buy a few ribbons at the store (it’s part of our fun) and tuck them all in a padded mailer and send it to her. Of course, I’d end the recording somewhere between laughing and crying, but for sure saying,
“Dear _____, you have been such an incredibly good friend, I love you a lot, and I’m sending you a hug you don’t have to get on tippy-toes to receive!”
I think she’d at least smile at it, she might even laugh if she had the energy, and I think, I hope, she would feel loved over all the miles and across the years.
So think of the person’s state. Can they still hear but not see, can they see but not hear, or would they just love to hear your voice, and not just on the phone? (It is worth noting that some blind people have text readers on their computers, so a regular-typeface-typed/printed-out note can be enjoyed.)
Now that I’m thinking of it, she might like snippets from our reading-together of To Kill a Mockingbird, too…she did so love my faking of the accents…!
You don’t have to wait for a greeting card company to show you care.