I often reflect on my first hospice volunteering experience with Janet (not her real name). When I first met her, she was frail, non-verbal, confused, and scared. It was easy to label her simply as a “dying person,” but over time, I learned how much more she was. In our subsequent visits, through her and her husband, I discovered that Janet had been born and raised in Mexico and was a self-taught artist. She had a deep passion for art, with a particular love for Mexican folk art, textile art, and dancing. Some of her pieces had even been displayed at the History Colorado Center.
Janet had a remarkable ability to transform anything into something beautiful. What others saw as trash, she saw as potential: a scratched-up mirror became a stunning wall hanging, torn clothing was transformed into a colorful blanket, and scraps of artwork turned into a charming dancing doll. Her creativity knew no bounds, and her heart was equally expansive. She had been honored as the “Corn Mother,” a prestigious award given for a lifetime of selfless giving and teaching art to at-risk youth, helping keep them off the streets and instilling in them a love for beauty and creativity.
In many ways, Janet became my teacher as well. She took me in as her last student, igniting a creative spark in me that I hadn’t known existed. Through her, I learned that nothing should be discarded or undervalued—everything holds potential, a lesson she demonstrated again and again in the art projects we worked on together. We made beaded and ribbon bracelets, dolls, cutout art, yarn patterns, and felt roses. The ideas for each project came from the art she used to create but could no longer do on her own due to her frailty. She would teach me how to make them, and each project took one or two weeks to complete.
Our connection during this time highlights the importance of end of life care at home. Janet’s home, filled with her personal history and artwork, became a space where she could continue to share her passions even in her final days. Her care was not just about addressing physical needs but about tending to her spirit and creativity. End of life nursing care was essential to her comfort, but so was the emotional and creative support that allowed her to express herself.
Every time we finished a piece, I felt a profound sense of accomplishment. Something so basic had been turned into something beautiful, and through that process, I found my own creativity beginning to flourish. Janet showed me how to see the world in a new light—a more beautiful, inspiring light than I had known before. I began to see everything around me as holding the potential for beauty.
More importantly, Janet taught me that human lives are no different. Just as she saw potential in discarded objects, she helped me realize that no one is ever just a “dying person.” End-of-life planning often focuses on medical decisions, but Janet helped me understand that it can also be about embracing creativity, joy, and connection in the final stages of life. We are all whole, vibrant people, living full lives until our very last breath, and sometimes even beyond that. Janet’s creativity, wisdom, and love transformed the way I view not only art, but life and death as well. Through her, I learned that each stage of life, like each piece of material, holds beautiful possibilities.
