Bedside companionship
Weekly visits to read aloud, hold a hand, watch the Sox with a fan, or simply share quiet. The most requested role, and the most needed.
Hold a hand. Read aloud. Just be there.
A hand to hold while a daughter steps outside for air. A song in a quiet room. A reading from a worn book. A second cup of coffee at 3 a.m. so a caregiver can close her eyes. The thing the family doesn't have the strength to do alone — and the thing no clinician is trained to do, because it isn't clinical. It is human.
And what they remember is not a moment of competence. It's a moment of companionship. The lamp was on. Someone was there. They weren't alone.
Pathways volunteers carry that forward. We don't ask you to fix anything. We don't ask you to know what to say. We ask you to be there — in the chair next to the bed, on the porch with the caregiver, on the phone with the family the day after — while our nurses, aides, social workers, and physicians do the medical work alongside you.
If that sounds like something you've been quietly carrying around looking for a place to put down: this is the place.
Volunteers choose the role that fits their lived experience, time, and comfort. You don't have to do all of these. Most volunteers stay with one or two for years.
Weekly visits to read aloud, hold a hand, watch the Sox with a fan, or simply share quiet. The most requested role, and the most needed.
When a patient enters their final days, our Eleventh Hour volunteers sit vigil so no Pathways family dies alone. You're called when the time comes. You stay until you're relieved — or until they are.
Trained comfort-therapy practitioners offer non-pharmacologic comfort — light hand-holding, gentle touch, energy work for patients who find peace in it.
Voice, guitar, harp, hymn, fiddle, even kazoo. Whatever the patient loved when they were well. We've had volunteers learn one song just for one family.
Registered therapy-dog teams (and the occasional cat) bring something into the room that no medication can. The dog handler is the volunteer; the dog does the rest.
A few hours so a spouse can go to the dentist, the grocery store, or just the backyard. Caregivers are often the second patient. We give them their afternoon back.
Volunteers trained in life-review interviewing record a patient's story for the family — the war they fought, the recipe they perfected, the love story they want their grandchildren to hear. We give the family the recording.
Veterans visiting veterans. A formal pinning ceremony at the bedside. A salute at the door. Our volunteers know what it means to be thanked by another who served.
For up to thirteen months after a patient passes, we check on families. Volunteers help carry that — a call, a card, a walk on an anniversary. The grief doesn't end when the chart closes.
Sewing memory bears from a loved one's clothing. Writing condolence cards. Assembling welcome baskets. Quiet, important work for volunteers who'd rather not be at the bedside — and we need both.
Honesty up front. This is not an afternoon sign-up. Hospice volunteers are part of a clinical team, and the preparation reflects that. Here is how the path runs.
A short form, a phone call, an in-person conversation with our Volunteer Coordinator. We talk about your life experience, what you're carrying, what kind of role might fit. There is no “wrong reason” to want to do this work.
A background check and a health screening — standard for anyone entering a patient's home. Your coordinator walks you through exactly what's required and helps you get it done.
Training before you ever walk into a patient's home: the philosophy of hospice, what dying actually looks like, communication at the bedside, family dynamics, grief, your own self-care, infection control, HIPAA, and the limits of the role.
You pair with an experienced volunteer for your first one or two visits. You watch. You learn the rhythm. You ask anything. No one's first visit is alone.
Matched by our coordinator. Geography, schedule, language, comfort level, what kind of presence the family needs. You always have a clinical contact, a backup volunteer, and the 24/7 Pathways line.
You're not handed a patient and left alone. There's somewhere to bring it after a death, people to ask when you're unsure, and a community of volunteers who understand this work from the inside. You won't carry this alone.
Since 2012, we have been entrusted with the final chapter of more people than we can name. We carry each of them. We don't list names publicly — that's a family conversation, never a marketing one — but we hold a quiet space for them in our practice, and in the way we train the next volunteer.
“Above all else — time.”
A Pathways hospice promise
Want to honor someone in a way that helps another family? Memorial gifts to the Comfort Fund quietly support patient needs in our care today.
See the Comfort FundThe Pathways Comfort Fund is a simple donation pool that helps with patient comfort needs — the small, practical things that aren't covered by insurance and that quietly make a long week easier on a family.
A favorite meal. A grocery card during a difficult stretch. A warm blanket. A taxi to the appointment. None of it dramatic. All of it real.
Every dollar goes to the families. If you'd like to help, any amount counts.
100% of contributions support patient comfort. Administrative costs are absorbed by Pathways.
Most weekly volunteers make one or two visits. A book and a chair. A song and a goodbye. You shape the schedule with the coordinator and the family, around the life you already have.
You are prepared before you meet a patient: what you'll see, what to say, what not to say, and how to take care of yourself afterward.
Families bond to their volunteer, and another goodbye is more than they should have to carry. We'd rather have a little of your time reliably than a lot of it briefly. If life intervenes, of course it intervenes — just tell us.
Medicare requires that hospice volunteers contribute at least 5% of total patient-care hours. Volunteers aren't an add-on at a hospice — they are written into how the care is built.
About a four-minute form. It goes straight to our Volunteer Coordinator, who will reach out to talk. You can attach a resume if you like — you don't have to.
Open the form →Call and ask for the Volunteer Coordinator. No pressure and no commitment — just a real conversation about whether this is a fit for you.
800.939.1855 →There are no wrong answers here — this just helps our Volunteer Coordinator get to know you before they call. Name and one way to reach you is all that’s required. Your note goes straight to our Volunteer Coordinator.
A final word.
It can be filled by an absence. It can be filled by a stranger from a staffing agency who watches the clock. Or it can be filled by you — trained, prepared, supported, and chosen by a family who needed exactly what you were quietly ready to give.
We'd be honored to walk you through what it takes.