Give Everyone Their Roses Now: Finding Beauty at the End of Life

“You’ve gotta give everyone their roses now. Don’t wait until later.”
— Gilchrist Hospice Patient, 87 years old

When people hear that Chelsea Rubin is a hospice social worker, their first response is usually the same: “That must be so sad.” But after nearly five years in the role, Chelsea has found something quite different. Yes, there is grief, loss, and heaviness—but there is also deep tenderness, resilience, and unexpected beauty. You just have to know where to look for it.

Chelsea, a Clinical Social Worker at Gilchrist, has spent the past several years quietly collecting small, meaningful moments from her visits with patients and families. During her time in patients’ homes, she began noticing the flowers—blooming in gardens, in pots by the window, or even growing wild through the weeds. She started snapping photos of them and pairing them with quotes or bits of wisdom patients shared in conversation. Some made her laugh, others stayed with her long after the visit. Many, she says, felt like gifts.

Chelsea admits she didn’t know much about flowers when she first started her job. She even jokes that she has a “brown thumb.” But through these moments with patients, she’s gained more than gardening knowledge—she’s learned to slow down, listen deeply, and recognize the small, beautiful things people hold onto at the end of life. Her photos and quotes have grown into a personal collection she one day hopes to turn into a book. For now, she’s sharing a few selections that offer a glimpse into the quiet beauty and humanity that she witnesses every day in hospice work.

Irises

In the spring sunshine near a patient’s porch, these purple irises reminded Chelsea of how patients often pause to share the stories behind their gardens—memories of loved ones, anniversaries, or the simple joy of watching something bloom.

“Doing the work you do, you must see beyond the wrinkle.”
— Gilchrist Hospice Patient, 92 years old

Roses in the Front Yard

These roses grew outside the home of a patient who was just 54 years old and living with oropharyngeal cancer. Despite his illness, he often walked Chelsea and her colleagues to their cars and picked a rose for them to take with them.

“I’m built like an elephant—I’m tough, and have a memory like one, too.”
— Gilchrist Hospice Patient, 88 years old

A Lone Primrose in the Weeds

This primrose stood out in a yard overtaken by weeds. The patient who lived there used to tend to her garden daily, but could no longer keep up with it. The single flower was a poignant reminder of what once was—and still is.

“Save your money and you’ll always have it… sometimes I feel like I’m 605 years old.”
— Gilchrist Hospice Patient, 105 years old

Flowering Dogwood in Spring

This blooming tree, captured on a bright day, reminded Chelsea of the seasons of life. Even in the final chapter, there is color, growth, and quiet renewal.

“Life is about being loyal, having patience, and respect for one another.”
— Gilchrist Hospice Patient, 99 years old

A Plant Named Barry

A clipping from a patient’s plant now lives in Chelsea’s home. The patient, Barry, passed away years ago—but his plant continues to thrive. Fittingly, she named the plant “Barry.”

In a field where so many see only sorrow, Chelsea has found meaning—and shared wisdom—in petals, porch steps, and one-liners that linger. Each photo and quote is a quiet act of remembrance. A way to honor the lives lived and the love shared. A way to give roses now.

Interested in joining a team that sees beauty even in life’s hardest moments?
Learn more about careers at Gilchrist: gilchristcares.org/careers