She was one of the 5 residents of the house. the hospice is a single-family house in the middle of a middle-class housing estate.
there are 5 single rooms, a kitchen, a lounge and a very beautiful garden. i have always known the nurses there to be very competent and concerned but not overly spiritual or religious at all. and i hope you don’t mind me saying this, but it’s part of the story: the hottest make up trends and the latest fashion highlights of new york fashion week weren’t necessarily always the order of the day for the ladies in the hospice.
at least not until one of the residents moved in. she too was terminally ill, like every resident of the house, and knew she would spend her last days here. after the first 2 or 3 days, when one of the nurses asked her if there was anything she would like us to do for her, she looked up and said: “i look like shit! i would love to put on makeup because i don’t want to die like this! but i think my daughter left all my makeup in my apartment. could you maybe help me out with some mascara, makeup and lipstick? i would be very grateful.”
all the nurses present in the room looked at each other somewhat helplessly until, after a few seconds, the hospice director said, “well, i don’t think we’ll have any luck finding makeup with our nurses here in the house.” everyone’s gaze wandered to me, standing next to the bed in my new dolce and gabanna jeans with glitter, my prada sneakers and my white hugo shirt with a new pillowcase.
“so please…..you don’t have to look at me either…make up i don’t have either,” i said only slightly irritated. “but i can certainly get some.”
the lady finally got make up to get herself ready for the last dance, the last walk, the last look in the mirror and when i hear the song “primadonna girl” today, like right now at this moment, i think of her and she is not forgotten.
so today i look back on my time in the hospice with much more laughter than tears. there are more happy things i experienced there than depressing things.
and so i wish that many young people would also venture out of the nightlife into a hospice to laugh, to be made happy. and to have make up with them when it is needed by a “primadonna girl”.