Most people who know me know I'm not easily impressed.

It's not that I'm a cynic. It's just that I've seen so many people who have some ulterior motive - usually publicity - for doing "good" things that I tend to be a little skeptical.

So my friends were a bit surprised to hear me praise a group of people I met a couple of months ago. These people, who work for Parkview Home Health and Hospice in Fort Wayne, personify the word good - also compassionate, wonderful, patient and heaven-sent.

Hospice as an institutionalized concept has been around only since the 1960s, when Dr. Cicely Saunders, a British physician, began the modern hospice movement by establishing St. Christopher's Hospice near London. St. Christopher's organized a team approach to professional caregiving, and was the first program to use modern pain management techniques to compassionately care for the dying. The first hospice in the United States was established in New Haven, Conn., in 1974.

A quick survey of the Internet reveals Catholic hospices, Jewish hospices, hospices for children, prison hospices, even Zen hospices (in California, of course). What these all have in common, and what I discovered with the Parkview people, is an unbelievable commitment to helping people die with dignity, with as little pain as possible and, usually, in the comfort of their own homes.

My association with the Parkview Hospice team began before Easter, when my mother was released from the hospital with terminal colon cancer. The man in charge of her case, Bill Bridges (often referred to by our family as The Saint), having easily passed my mother's exacting standards and questions, carefully explained his plan for her care, patiently answering all of our questions and giving us as much information as possible.

Throughout the last two months of my mother's life, Bill and his team of extraordinary hospice workers and volunteers were always there when we needed them, never more than a phone call away. One of the volunteers, Bonnie, came to the house every morning to bathe Mom and wash her hair. Another, Jenny, came if Bonnie couldn't, and yet another would sit with Mom and read to her if my father had to leave the house for any reason.

Bill checked in every day, often calling or stopping by on his days off to check on Mom's condition, and frequently would call and tell us he had just thought of or discovered something that would make Mom more comfortable and would bring it right over - a gel mattress to help with her chafed elbows and ankles, a new intravenous formula, a different lotion, a more effective medication for nausea.

Karen, the hospice chaplain, also called and came over, often to chat or pray with Mom, sometimes to talk about what was going to happen and help Mom (and the rest of us) accept it.

Words cannot express how, at such a traumatic time in the life of a family, these people were an unbelievable source of comfort and help to all of us, and they continue to be - they will continue to keep in touch with Dad.

What truly impresses me, besides the team's unbelievable level of skill, ability to deal with patients and families, compassion, availability, gentleness and sense of humor, is their sincerity. When they walked in the house and asked how Mom was feeling, there was absolutely none of the condescending, "And how are we feeling today?" that is the stereotype of health care workers. All of the hospice workers were truly concerned and cared deeply about all of us, and for that they have my undying gratitude. They were always glad to see Mom and the rest of the family, always cheerful, always willing to do whatever it took to make Mom feel better. Nothing was ever too difficult or too much trouble - even 2 a.m. calls about a beeping IV pump. They made Mom feel she was their only client; they made her feel comfortable and secure, not an easy task under those conditions.

Because my mother was mentally alert almost to the end, they explained everything to her as well as to us, and somehow managed to be open and honest about everything without unduly alarming any of us.

When Mom died June 2, peacefully and relatively pain-free in her own home, surrounded by her family - all thanks to the hospice team - we called Bill and he came immediately, gently and lovingly cleaning her and changing her clothes, then waiting with us until the funeral home came to get her.

How these incredible people can do such an intense job and do it so perfectly is beyond me, but I am overwhelmingly grateful that they do. To Bill, Bonnie, Jenny, Linda, Karen and everyone involved in making Mom's last days as comfortable as possible - thank you from the bottom of my heart. There is a special place in heaven for you and for all hospice workers. [[In-content Ad]]