What They Taught Me…
She was a few hours from the end of her journey.
I walked into her room, sat beside her, and took her hand. I said nothing. There was nothing to say. And somewhere in that stillness, she knew I was there. I watched the tension leave her face—slowly, completely—and in its place came something I can only call peace. She was ready.
She passed not long after. And then I went to find her family.
That moment is still with me. And if I am honest with you—and I think that is why I write now—both of those moments changed me far more than any difference I may have made for them.
Our work does not end when the person leaves. It begins again with the people remaining.
Because this is what I want you to understand: our work does not end when the person leaves. It begins again with the people remaining. Grief has its own silences, its own needs, its own moments where someone simply needs to not be alone. The scope of what you are stepping into is wider than any single bedside—it touches every difficult crossing in a life, not only the final one.
I want to leave you with three things I have carried from this work.
First: be present. Not helpful. Not informative. Present. Your body in the room, your hand offered, your silence held—this is the work. The people we serve do not need our words. They need to know they are not alone.
Second: our tradition is a gift—not a barrier. The families I have sat with find deep comfort when someone walks in who understands—who knows what it means to whisper a prayer, to honor a life, to hold space in a way that is familiar to the soul. What you carry from your heritage is not baggage. It is the most important thing you bring.
And third: this work will change you. It already has, or you would not be here. Let it. The people you serve will teach you more than any boardroom or classroom ever will. You are stepping into sacred work—and it will meet you at every stage of life, not only at its threshold.
Go gently. Go bravely. And when you don't know what to say—you don't need to say anything at all.
Simply—be present.
Mr. Sharad Patel is a 2025 CHT and an advisor to the HSCI board.