We all looked at her, surprised. “I’m fixing a luncheon for Mrs. K., and one of her requests was for a bunch of lilacs so she could smell them one last time,” Connie explained.

Connie has a knack for bringing out the social worker in all of us. She does so much extra for our patients that if she needs help, everyone is eager to assist. Now Connie was caring for a patient who knew she would be seeing her last spring. But unfortunately, it had been a very wet spring - and lilacs do not thrive when there is a lot of rain.

I told Connie I would find some lilacs for her. I just knew there had to be some, somewhere. But everywhere I looked, the little buds had already turned brown. I had no luck until our patient care manager took us to lunch for Secretaries’ Day, when I spotted a lilac bush in someone’s yard on our way back to the office.

“Stop the car!” I said. “I’ll go ask for those lilacs.” As I knocked on the door, I wondered what I should say. But it didn’t matter - there wasn’t anyone home. And then when I took a closer look at the bush, I realized that the lilacs were a little less than I’d expected. I guess these lilacs were not meant for me, but I swore to myself that I wasn’t giving up.

After dinner that evening I told my husband my predicament, and he agreed to drive me around the neighborhood to continue my search. He mumbled something about “protecting” me, just in case someone decided I was crazy and needed to be locked up! As we started to drive, I said a little prayer: “Please let me find some lilacs.” And that was when I saw it.

It was a beautiful bush - with just a few blossoms, but what flowers there were, were a beautiful sight! My heart beat fast as we pulled into the owner’s driveway. I hoped as I rang the bell that whoever answered the door would give me time to explain. (And not think I was nuts, by the way.)

A lovely young woman answered my ring. I explained my mission and asked her if she would allow me one small bouquet. She not only agreed, she helped me pick them - every last lilac that was in bloom. She asked me about VITAS, and I spent about half an hour telling her about our volunteer program. And I thanked her for helping to make Connie’s “lilac luncheon” a possibility for Mrs. K.

Mrs. K. died in June. The next day, I went back to the lilac house and rang the doorbell. The same young woman cheerfully asked me in. When I told her about Mrs. K., and thanked her again for the wonderful gift, she put her arm around my shoulder and smiled.

“You know,” she said, “that was the only bunch of lilacs that bloomed this year.”