Hospice volunteer Dede Montgomery and Veteran hospice patient John Roberts formed an unexpected friendship through the Veterans History Project.
When Dede Montgomery reached out to Housecall Providers Hospice, she knew she wanted to volunteer. She did not know one patient would come to mean so much to her.
Dede was already familiar with Housecall Providers. Years earlier, Housecall Providers Primary Care cared for her mother, Patricia, and Housecall Providers Hospice supported Patricia during the final chapter of her life.
That experience stayed with Dede. After her mother died, she missed spending time with older adults. She missed the conversations, the presence, the wisdom and the simple joy in humanity that can unfold when no one needs to rush.
After retiring from a career in health and safety, Dede trained as a hospice volunteer while continuing her work as an author of six books and counting and as a blogger.
At first, she imagined companion visits. Then Todd Lawrence, Housecall Providers Volunteer Program Coordinator, asked whether she might help with a special project: recording a Veteran’s story for the Library of Congress Veterans History Project, a national effort to preserve the personal stories of U.S. Veterans.
That project led her to John.
John was a Veteran, a former mechanic, a father, and, as Dede quickly learned, a storyteller.
The project started with a simple goal: record his memories of military service. But the visits soon expanded beyond dates, places and facts.
Dede listened as John described volunteering to become a Navy diver, first because it meant earning a little more money, and then because he loved the challenge and excitement of the work. He shared stories of repairing engines, growing up in Oregon, logging, sports, family and the experiences that shared his life.
The more they talked, the more Dede found points of connection.
John’s work as a mechanic reminded her of the workers she had known through her own career. His Oregon stories echoed with her own deep roots in the state. His humor reminded her of people she had loved. Sometimes, when he smiled, she caught glimpses of both her mother and father in his expression.
Although nearly 30 years separated Dede and John, they quickly found the easy rhythm of friendship.
“I have a new friend,” Dede wrote after one of their visits.
That friendship grew through ordinary moments. Dede learned John’s gestures. When he talked about fixing engines, his hands moved forward and in circles. When he described music, his hands became instruments. Once, when she asked whether music had mattered to him, John gestured as if playing a bugle, then a trumpet, then a trombone.
A moment later, she pulled out her phone and played “Seventy-Six Trombones.” John nodded along with the music and hummed.
For Dede, the moment felt small, but not minor.
“Time stops during our shared moments,” she says. “All other thoughts and concerns evaporate as I focus deeply on being in the moment with him.”
Hospice volunteers offer many quiet gifts. They bring time. They bring attention. They sit with someone, ask one more question, follow one more memory, smile at one more joke and honor the life in the room.
That attention can affirm a patient deeply. It can also transform the volunteer.
Dede says each visit with John brought her joy. She did not arrive with a script. She paid attention to where John was that day. If he felt tired, she adjusted. If he wanted to talk, she listened.
If he repeated a story, she understood that repetition can reflect not only how memory works, but also how meaning works.
She took care not to set him up for failure. Instead of asking, “Do you remember me?” she might say, “We got to talk last week,” and then gently return to something they shared.
Again and again, John shared his gratitude.
“I have had a good life,” he told her. “I have good kids.”
Dede heard the beauty in that. Not every person reaches the end of life with that feeling. Not every person can look back with gratitude. John did and she considered that a privilege to witness.
At the end of each visit, she asked whether he would like her to come back.
Each time, he said yes.
One farewell became her favorite memory.
After helping John his chair back so he could join other residents watching a documentary, she prepared to leave and asked if she could shake his hand goodbye.
John gave her a stern look and shook his head.
“I don’t shake hands with women,” he teased.
Then he reached for a hug.
John died last June. We honor his service, his stories, his deep gratitude for his family and the infectious sense of humor that stayed with those lucky enough to know him.
For Dede, the Veterans History Project began as a way to preserve John’s memories. It grew into something more personal: a friendship shaped by listening, humor, shared history and presence.
“I appreciate John and his gratefulness and humor, his family, and Housecall Providers Hospice for giving me these special moments,” she says.
People often describe hospice volunteering as a way to give comfort to patients and families. It is. But volunteers often discover the exchange goes both ways. They arrive hoping to offer companionship. They leave carrying stories, laughter, tenderness, and gratitude.
In Dede’s visits with John, a national history project became a human one. A recording became a conversation. A conversation became a friendship.
And in those shared moments, both volunteer and patient remind us of something simple and enduring. Every life holds stories worth hearing, and sometimes the greatest gift we can offer is to listen.
