My Uncle, Father TH, CSC, came to Holy Cross House in June 2022. He passed away there in October 2022. In the 4 months and 9 days that he was there, he was treated with respect, kindness, and love. It was Uncle T's wish that he could stay in Portland (at Holy Cross Court at the University of Portland) for as long as possible. It was also his wish, when the time came, that he move to Holy Cross House so he could die amongst his brothers. I am grateful that his final wish was fulfilled.

I had the honor of flying with Uncle T from Portland to South Bend and staying with him for the first few days as he got settled into Holy Cross House. Leaving him to fly back to Portland was one of the most difficult things I have ever done, and yet, I was comforted knowing that he was being cared for at Holy Cross House.

The entire staff was wonderful, but I'd like to focus this award nomination on Jeanne Harrison. Jeanne was Uncle T's rock in his final weeks and days. Uncle T suffered from a variety of lung ailments, including COPD and aspergillosis. He was already on oxygen when he arrived at Holy Cross House and could walk short distances, but was mainly dependent on "walking" himself in his wheelchair. By the end of August, he was bedbound and dependent on the rebreather mask as well as the nasal cannula. He knew that he was dying, and he accepted that fact with peace, but he was anxious and fearful about feeling like he would be suffocating to death.

Jeanne kindly allayed his fears. She so tenderly, gently, and repeatedly answered all of his questions, reassuring him that there were medications that would keep him comfortable. She shared with him that she had great success with microdoses of sublingual morphine to ease breathing difficulties in acute moments of respiratory distress. This knowledge and microdosing was absolutely transformational to Uncle T in his final two months. Most particularly, it made getting out of bed to use the bathroom, which would normally would have dropped his 02 levels down to below 70%, a smoother, less traumatic process. And when the time came, Jeanne helped him transition to a bedside commode and then eventually a diaper in his last 3 days. As you know, there is a perceived loss of dignity in these transitions, but Jeanne saw Uncle T for the person he was, not just his fragile, dying body. She treated him with love, gentleness, and tenderness whilst still giving him the autonomy to make the choices that felt best to him. To the end, she treated him like Father T, and it made all the difference to him.

On Thursday, Uncle T started experiencing a bit of confusion. On Friday, he refused dinner and quit eating. We all, including Uncle T, knew that his time on earth was nearing its end. Jeanne's presence was such a comfort to Uncle T that he asked her to put her number into his cell phone so he could call her if need be. She graciously obliged. Uncle T never called. He wasn't able to use his phone at that point, but his request points to the comfort that Jeanne brought him. She gave him peace and comfort in the dying process that none of us could. I will forever be grateful to her.

Whilst Uncle T was at Holy Cross House, I was fortunate to be able to visit him 3 times, staying several days with each stay. Each time, I managed to miss meeting Jeanne. She was so important to Uncle T that he wanted me to meet her so badly. "You'll love her. She's really the best. I don't know what I'd do without her." I finally got to meet Jeanne after Uncle T's funeral on the steps of the Basilica. Through my tears, I couldn't say much more than "Thank you." In all honesty, no words will ever be sufficient to thank her, but hopefully, nominating her for this award will convey, in some small way, my gratitude for all that she has done.

Uncle T wrote these words to the staff at St. Paul's who cared for his mother, but I feel that they apply here, too. I'm sure he would say the same to Jeanne if he could.

"Since you do this work day after day, I suspect that you don't often think about how profoundly important the work you do is. But from the point of view of a theologian, which is my profession, the work you do is not just physically and emotionally of extreme value, it is also of ultimate spiritual value as well. To put it more simply, your hands and hearts are the instruments of God's care and love. Through you, people feel and experience God, even if they are not aware of it. Your profession is a noble one in and of itself. But in specializing in care for the elderly, you make that profession a true ministry of service to those who need it most.

I will never forget you and the beauty of your lives of service. May God continue to bless you and your work."