Imagine a room bathed in soft afternoon light, where the only sounds are the gentle rustle of curtains and a loved one’s steady breathing. No frantic beeps from machines, no hurried footsteps echoing down sterile halls. Just presence—yours, theirs, and the quiet assurance that every moment counts. This is the world of hospice care, a sanctuary where the end of life unfolds not as a battle, but as a tender farewell wrapped in dignity and warmth.
A Home That Remembers Your Name
Matulaitis Rehabilitation and Skilled Care sits on a leafy corner of Thurber Road in Putnam, Connecticut. It’s a five-star, non-profit skilled nursing home run by people who still believe caring is a calling, not just a job. Walk in and you smell coffee brewing and something baking. Someone’s playing the old upright piano in the lobby—usually off-key, always happy. Residents wave from wheelchairs like they’ve known you forever, because half of them have lived in this town longer than you’ve been alive.
Hospice Isn’t the End of the Story—It’s the Gentle Last Chapter
A lot of folks hear “hospice” and think darkness. Here it feels more like candlelight. When medicine can’t cure anymore, the entire focus shifts to comfort, joy, and love. Pain gets chased away before it has a chance to settle in. Favorite foods show up on the tray even if it’s just a spoonful. The Red Sox game is on if that’s what matters most that day. Family can stay from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. every single day—no exceptions, no clipped visiting hours.
The Gentle Rhythm of Care at Matulaitis
Our hospice care here integrates effortlessly with the broader skilled nursing environment. Whether a resident arrives mid-journey or transitions into end-of-life support, the team ensures continuity. Nurses trained in palliative techniques monitor comfort levels around the clock, adjusting care plans with the precision of a composer’s hand on keys. Social workers connect families to resources, from bereavement groups to practical guidance on next steps. And volunteers—often locals with hearts as open as the facility’s welcoming doors—bring stories, songs, or simply a listening ear.
One key pillar is palliative care, which runs parallel to hospice and focuses on easing the toll of illness at any stage. It targets not just symptoms but the whole person: reducing nausea with targeted therapies, addressing fatigue through restful routines, and tackling anxiety with mindfulness practices or pet visits that spark forgotten smiles. For those nearing the end, this evolves into full hospice services, where the emphasis shifts entirely to quality over quantity.
Respite care adds another layer of grace. Imagine a caregiver, weary from months of vigilance, needing a brief pause. Matulaitis offers short stays— a week or more, space permitting—for hospice patients, providing a nurturing pause without uprooting the familiar. It’s a reminder that care extends to those who give it, too.
Care That Flows Like a River
Physical care might include gentle pain management or adaptive aids to maintain mobility. Emotional support could mean grief counseling for family members, helping them process waves of feeling in a safe space. And spiritually? In a faith-rooted setting like Matulaitis, chaplains offer prayers, rituals, or simply silent companionship, drawing on traditions that speak to the soul’s deepest yearnings.
Family Is Part of the Care Team, Too
Caregivers at home get tired. Matulaitis keeps rooms ready for respite stays—a week, two weeks, whatever is needed—so the person you love can rest in familiar kindness while you sleep through the night for the first time in months. When you visit, you’re not a guest; you’re expected. Eat meatloaf with everyone else, join the rosary if you want, sit on the porch and watch the squirrels argue over acorns.
Faith Without Pressure, Love Without Limits
The Catholic roots show up in quiet ways—morning Mass in the chapel, beeswax candles, chaplains who know when to pray and when to just hold your hand. But every faith (or no faith at all) is welcomed exactly as it is. Hope here isn’t a slogan on a poster; it’s the nurse who still paints a resident’s nails coral because “she always did on Saturdays.
Come Feel It for Yourself
If you’re reading this because someone you love is nearing that bend in the road, take a deep breath. There are still places that understand the true measure of a life is how gently it’s held at the end.
Come visit. Call 860-928-7976 anytime. Drive up to 10 Thurber Road, park under the maple trees, walk through the front doors, and just stand there for a minute. You’ll smell cinnamon, hear laughter, and feel something settle in your chest that you didn’t even know was clenched.
Because when time becomes the most precious thing we have left, Matulaitis treats it exactly like the gift it is—wrapping it in kindness, music, and the softest kind of light.
