I began working as a volunteer with the local Hospice several years ago. I had been doing volunteer work, but it was usually in hospitals. Then I heard an ad on the radio asking for help at a hospice, and I called. It has been one of the most rewarding jobs I've ever had.

Hospice takes care of the terminally ill, which means persons with six months or less to live. For the most part, it is an in-home service where registered nurses visit and provide the patient with proper care as prescribed by a doctor. Often, the nurses teach family members how to administer drugs, care for personal needs, and give the patient all the help he or she needs to make life comfortable until the end. As a volunteer, I would help in all ways I could. For example, I would take patients, if able, for a drive and sit with them at home while their family members shopped or just got away for awhile. I would talk, read aloud, tell jokes-do anything that would take the patient's mind off his or her condition and put it on something else.

It seems like most of the patients were either part of the Masonic family or related to a Mason. Most of my clients had cancer, which is not the easiest way to die. There is a lot of pain with some types of cancer.

One of my patients turned out to be very special to me. No one, not even a family member, will ever know the times I drove home with tears in my eyes. I would always try to look on the bright side while I was at the family house. When my patient died, the family asked if I would like to say something at the funeral. After some thought, I realized the honor given me, and I accepted the invitation. The following is part of what I said at the funeral.

When we first met, it was at a Lodge meeting. He loved his Lodge Brothers and only gave up coming to Lodge after his pain became unbearable and he went to the hospital to try to get some relief. I visited him at the hospital as a Brother Mason, learned his cancer was terminal, and offered to assist his family as a Hospice volunteer.

During my visits to his home, we talked and, when possible, went places to visit friends. As time passed, we became closer friends and, more than that, family. I no longer went as a Hospice volunteer, but as a member of his family. We used to go see some of our fraternal Brothers who were sick in the hospital. I would tell him, "Come on, let's go visit some sick old folks." He would laugh and we would go.

To my good Masonic Brother, the most important thing in his life was family. He loved his five daughters and said he always wanted a son, but now that his daughters were taking care of him, he realized God knew he only needed daughters. These girls worked in shifts, one each week, and my friend was never alone.

My relation with him and his family reaffirmed to me that the most important things in life are love of God, family, and fellowman. There was so much love in the house that it was hard for him to let go. He really cared about people. He even listened to what troubled me. In those conversations, he forgot about his pain and worried about me. Here was a man dying of cancer, but he would put that aside to care for others. He was a strong man. The physical and the emotional pain would bring tears to his eyes, but he would see through it, with help from God, and be laughing and carrying on. He loved a good joke. He was not a quitter and kept on the move all he could. He loved to get around his house or just go for a ride. With the help of his family and friends, he would get out of bed every day and sit in his chair or go outside, weather permitting. Even when he could not go out, he loved to watch the birds eat from two feeders at the windows of his room.

He was always aware of his appear-ance, kept a comb in the pocket of his clean shirt, and tried to look well. He did not like to be alone. I'm sure many visitors heard the words "Don't leave, stay and visit a while." But when you did go, you knew he was in good and capable hands. It was better than having a full-time nurse, because he loved those who were taking care of him.

He left me with something more precious than all the riches in the world. He left me with love in my heart. After all is said and done, he lived and loved. Farewell my Brother.

For personal and appropriate reasons, the author of this article, a Scottish Rite Mason, does not wish to note his name nor the name of the Brother he is memorializing. However, since the article gives high profile to the very beneficial services provided by Hospice and expresses an inspirational life philosophy, this personal essay is deemed worthy of sharing with the readers of the Scottish Rite Journal.