We have called in hospice for my mom. It’s strange, because hospice is one of those words that when you say it people’s faces fall. It is a word that evokes last breaths and hushed voices. But the more I think about it, the more I’m struck by what a beautiful word it is—hospice. It is hushed, especially at the end. But it’s comfortable and competent sounding, too. A French word with Latin roots—very close to hospital but with so much more serenity due to those S sounds. (You see, I am growing increasingly fond of the letter S.) It used to mean a rest house for travelers—for pilgrims. And is
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