As death nears, Threshold Singers bring comfort

INDIANAPOLIS — The soft strains of a hymn spill out over the hum of a fan in the cramped room. “Be still, my soul, the Lord is on your side.”

A man lies in the bed, legs drawn up to his chest. He’s awake but doesn’t speak, eyes closed, face bathed in the late afternoon sunlight.

The angelic sounds wafting out the door and down the hallway of the hospice belong to a group of women who give back in a most unusual way.

They are the Threshold Singers, and they minister to the dying through music.

On this day, they are visiting the Abbie Hunt Bryce Home, one of 11 hospice facilities in the country that serve the homeless and indigent.

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They come twice a month to sing a capella at the bedsides of patients here — people like Corinthian Martin, who says, “When I’m feeling bad, the music sort of soothes me.”

And Darla Owens, who says, “They put me to sleep. They’ve got such gorgeous voices.”

Threshold choirs visit those at the thresholds of living or dying, explains Deborah Carrithers, director of the local group, which formed in 2011 and has about a dozen members. They sing in homes, hospices, intensive care units and at memorials and funerals as requested.

“Two to four of us at a time, we strive to convey peace and comfort through song,” she said.

They come at the request of the patient, family members or staff, singing for 10 minutes or so, taking their cues from the patient as to what to sing and how long to stay. Their visits are free.

They liken their singing to a lullaby or mantra at times, simplifying the harmony and verses as needed to soothe patients and their loved ones. Some of their more popular songs are May Peace Be With You, Rest Easy, (We Are) Walking Each Other Home and Amazing Grace.

“Where words fail, music speaks.” That sentiment from author Hans Christian Andersen is included in Carrithers’ email signature line. The longtime church choir member considers herself a musical amateur, but her quest to comfort the dying is a deep commitment.

“Threshold singers work hard to know what to sing, how to sing it and how to behave at the bedsides of the dying,” she said. “Our music ... addresses the fears and concerns of those at the end of life: You Are Loved, All Is Forgiven, May You Be at Peace.”

The group is always looking for volunteers; the requirements are fairly simple: You need to be able to carry a tune, hold your part and communicate kindness with your voice, Carrithers said.

Lucy McCoskey can do that. Beyond that, she’s had several years of experience facilitating a support group for people with AIDS. “I helped a lot of people through the transition to death; we sang a lot in the group, and that seemed to help people.”

McCoskey was stricken with polio at age 6 and remembers being housed on a medical ward where people were not expected to survive. “I saw a lot of bodies wheeled past me,” she said.

That experience and the spiritual presence she felt at the time have stayed with her and led her to this ministry, she said.

But religious faith is not a prerequisite for volunteers or patients. The volunteers say their visits are spiritual but not necessarily religious.

“We sing to people who are atheists as well as people who are devout. We tailor it to the situation,” McCoskey said.

While a lot of the songs are Christian-based, the group is also learning songs in Arabic and Mandarin. The goal is sweet, calming music.

How do they know what they’re doing is helping?

“We notice a change in the patient,” said Mary Roberts, who has been singing with the group for about a year. “Their facial expression softens, the tension in their neck seems to relax.”

“We know that the right kind of song can actually reduce blood pressure and pain,” Carrithers said.

Still, not everyone is a fan.

“There are some patients who almost always want us to sing and some who always say no,” Carrithers said. “One thing we know is it’s not for everybody, and we’re not offended by that.”

They also do their best not to cry.

“Our stated policy is that we honor tears, we expect them, but we don’t necessarily want to generate them,” Carrithers said. “We hold a space open for whatever emotions come up when people are in that situation. I’ve never succumbed to that kind of emotion, but it’s because I’m so focused on giving to the patient. My intention is to give service.”

She remembers a time when she came close to tears.

“There was one time when I thought I might crack. We were visiting a young teenage boy who was in a coma after a motorcycle accident. His father was in the room ... I managed to get through. I felt the sadness in my heart but was able to sing.”

Mary Roberts says she knows this is the kind of volunteering she is meant to do.

“When my mother passed away in hospice, it was very peaceful. I wanted to be able to help folks going through the end stages of life feel that peace. I think singing is a way we can do that.”