Myles Lynch’s parents didn’t know the life that was awaiting their son until a month after he was born. Born on September 13th, 1997, the doctors at CHEO discovered his condition a month later, diagnosing him with cystic fibrosis. For the rest of his life, Myles fought with all his might to stay alive, to remain positive in the face of adversity, and to leave a legacy for others.
A mother’s love knows no bounds and so his mother, Linda Lynch, took several years off work to care for Myles. When she eventually returned, she transferred Myles to the school she worked at as a gym teacher so she could keep a close eye on him.
Linda always encouraged Myles to exercise. His lungs could only reach 30% capacity at their fullest, but she encouraged him to join sports teams, and Myles was eager to participate. His experiences with team sports instilled a sense of accomplishment and belonging in Myles, even though he was spending months in and out of hospitals.
Cystic fibrosis (CF) is a genetic disorder which produces thick mucus in the lungs and digestive system. There is no known cure, but the condition can be managed with medications and a high-calorie diet.
While the median predicted survival age for individuals with cystic fibrosis is roughly 65 years of age, Myles had an especially challenging experience having a double lung transplant at 17 due to deterioration and then two more double lung transplants due to chronic rejection.
The surgery for the third transplant was especially grueling, and for four days after the operation Myles remained in a coma, Linda not knowing whether her son was alive or dead. It was a moment of great relief when the doctors woke him up. Myles sat up in his bed, then stood up, then walked out of the ICU to be with his family again.
His family and the doctors who cared for him did everything they could to help Myles live a great life, but eventually his lungs gave up. Myles passed away on December 31, 2021. He was 24 years old.
Myles’s wish was to pass away at home and with Cornwall Hospice’s support he was able to do so surrounded by friends and family. Linda and the rest of Myles’s family were grateful for the support they received. “We understand the importance of people wanting to pass away at home,” says Angela Labelle, Hospice Manager. “Many people think of Hospice as a building, but our services extend into the community as well.”
The Healing Journey Begins
The pain of losing a child is unimaginable and there is no right way to heal. For Linda a big part of her healing journey included volunteering at Hospice where she started volunteering with patients in their final stages of life. “Volunteering was a way to open the gate,” says Linda. She says she felt trapped and alone in her grief at times but by “opening the gate” to others through her volunteer work she was able to channel her energy towards building community and being of service.
Linda also participates every year in Carefor Hospice Cornwall’s annual fundraising event, Hike for Hospice. She values physical exercise, but she also emphasizes the spiritual aspect of walking together with others for a good cause as a way of moving forward. She says, “You need to get out there, face others, and just keep going.”
Learn more about Myles Lynch:
To join Linda and others at this year’s Hike for Hospice, for a day celebrating those we love, register at https://carefor.ca/event/hike-for-hospice/
Jenny Maroun once lived a life filled with family, friends, and travel. Her husband, Jean, spent 40 years as Head of Oncology at the Ottawa Hospital Cancer Center, while Jenny devoted three decades to nursing in a retirement home, caring for seniors, many of whom lived with dementia. Their careers were demanding, but they made room for the things they loved: travelling, socializing, and spending time with their two children and grandchildren.
But life started to change for Jenny in about 2014 when Jean retired at the age of 73. After retirement Jean continued seeing patients once a week at a small clinic. But in 2016, Jenny was recognizing the first signs of Alzheimer’s in her husband.
During one of last vacations the couple took together, Jean was having difficulty remembering sequences of events and where they were supposed to meet the tour guide. Then in 2017, as Jean was on his way to a visit to the home of a client he had visited many times, he got lost.
Jenny pushed for Jean to be assessed and in February 2018 Jean underwent a CT scan. The scan confirmed what Jenny already suspected – Jean was displaying the first stages of Alzheimer’s, something he would always deny having.
Life After the Diagnosis
At the time, Jenny had a feeling she could handle her husband’s diagnosis. Afterall, she worked for many years in a retirement home, where about 50% of the residents had some sort of dementia. After all those years of working with seniors, the retirement Jenny was looking forward to enjoying with her husband was slowly being taken away from her by dementia.
“As time goes by it’s been quite an eye opener,” admitted Jenny in an interview. “Living with somebody 24 hours a day is much different than an 8-hour shift.”
Over the past six years, Jean’s condition has gradually deteriorated. When he was first diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, he was still doing most of his daily activities himself, but with each passing year, he lost many of his abilities, and Jenny has had to take on an increasing amount of responsibility as caregiver. Friends are still an important part of their lives but dementia has proven to be a barrier to their normal social life, leaving Jenny increasingly isolated.
The love between Jenny and Jean endures to this day, but being the caregiver of somebody living with dementia presents many challenges for people like Jenny. She refuses to put Jean in a retirement home, despite his doctor’s recommendations. Luckily Jenny has been able to call on her training as a nurse but acknowledges other caregivers she’s met have it much worse than her.
How Supports Can Make Such a Difference
Having support is essential when caregivers want to keep their loved one at home for as long as they can. Taking care of a loved one at home places a heavy weight on caregivers like Jenny, and by supporting people like her, we are reducing strain on the larger care system. People with advanced stages of dementia cannot care for themselves. Somebody must help.
Carefor’s Carling Adult Day Program supports seniors living with dementia. The program helps clients stay connected and social. It also helps caregivers by giving them a break, so they can do what they need to do to care for themselves. If these kinds of supports were not available, rates of caregiver burn out would increase, and there would be more seniors in hospitals and long-term care, pushing an already strained healthcare system.
Jenny calls the Carling Adult Day Program “a godsend” because it allows her to “…go out and see [her] friends, go to the hairdressers, knowing that [her husband] is safe.”
April 7 is National Caregiver’s Day in Canada. This date was adopted by Canadian Members of Parliament to formally recognize the contribution of people like Jenny, unpaid caregivers who provide essential support for their loved ones. We are proud to work alongside and support caregivers like Jenny who are the backbone of our healthcare system.
If you are a caregiver in need of support, please visit our website.
The Meal Delivery Program at the Lan‑Char Support Centre in Lancaster begins each day with something simple but powerful: neighbours looking out for one another. With up to one-third of seniors living alone, a warm meal delivered with a friendly smile can mean the difference between isolation and connection. For many seniors, these meals are not only nourishment, but are also a reminder that someone cares.
Nancy Contant has seen this impact firsthand. After more than 25 years volunteering with Carefor, first through footcare and now through meal delivery, she knows how meaningful a brief visit can be. Living in Lancaster and caring full‑time for her 100‑year‑old mother, Nancy says the program enriches her life as much as it does the clients’. “Meeting all the clients and making a difference in their lives” is what keeps her going, she explains. It’s also how she met Marilyn, who has become one of her closest friends. Volunteering, she adds, gives her a chance to recharge and is “a social outing to help others” that doubles as caregiver support for herself.
Marilyn Lebrun joined the program two years ago, shortly after retiring and welcoming a new granddaughter. Encouraged by Nancy, she quickly discovered how fulfilling the work could be. “A lot of people know me in the community, so it’s a great social outing,” she says. “It feels good to give back.” Like Nancy, she treasures the friendships she’s formed along the way.
One of the people they visit regularly is Corrie Flipsen. Corrie lives alone, though she has a large and loving extended family. The Meal Delivery Program allows her to maintain her independence without relying on them for daily help. She loves the hot meals, but even more, she loves the visits. “Meeting new people and socializing with the volunteers gives me something to look forward to,” she says.
These stories reflect the heart of Carefor’s five Senior Support Centres in Alexandria, Lancaster, Ingleside, Winchester, and Finch. Each centre provides essential services that help seniors age safely at home, stay socially connected, and feel supported in their community. As Lan‑Char Support Centre supervisor Tina Castonguay puts it:
“Our meal delivery program means that many seniors can stay at home, where they want to and for some, where they need to due to the cost of retirement homes. We’re proud to help our seniors live with independence.”
During March for Meals, we are looking for donations to support our meal delivery programs as well as people who want to volunteer. Visit our website to find out more information about donating, volunteering or accessing the program.
When Danny Sinagra lost his wife Maria, his world seemed to stop. “There was no way I was going to get any pets. No way I was going to volunteer. I wasn’t even getting out of bed to check the mail,” he recalls. “I was lost.”
After Maria’s passing, Danny felt frozen in time—his house filled with reminders of her, from her jewelry and purses to the TV shows they used to watch together. “People said, ‘get rid of it,’” Danny says, shaking his head. “But I’m keeping everything the way it is. I still sleep in the same bed. I still watch the same crappy TV shows, and I talk to her picture about what’s happening. It makes me feel closer to her.”
It wasn’t until he connected with Carefor Hospice Cornwall’s Grief and Bereavement Services that Danny began to find a way forward. Shannon Ball, a Family & Patient Support Counsellor with the hospice, met him early in his journey. “Right from the beginning, Danny was open to trying support,” she says. “He came to one-on-one sessions and group meetings. That openness, just being willing to show up, is one of the biggest factors in healing.”
At his first meeting with Shannon, she handed him a small smooth stone that read Hope. “That rock changed everything,” Danny says softly. “I took it home, and from that one rock, I started collecting others, a jasper that says Faith, a tiger’s eye from my sister, and an amethyst, Maria’s favourite colour.” Those stones became part of a small shrine he built for Maria, a place of comfort and reflection.
“It’s all about touch,” Shannon explains. “Grief can be overwhelming, and something as simple as a grounding stone helps keep people present. The word hope reminds them that healing is still possible.”
For Danny, it took time and community. Through Carefor’s group sessions, he found a space where he could talk openly about Maria, his regrets, and his slow steps forward. “At first, I didn’t see it getting better,” he admits. “But every week, people would say, ‘It’s going to get better, Danny.’ And one day, it did.”
Carefor Hospice Cornwall offers both one-on-one counselling and group sessions—some open, some closed six-week programs that explore grief through conversation and education. In those groups, laughter and tears often coexist. “It sounds strange,” Danny says with a smile, “but we actually laugh a lot. You cry, you laugh, you share. It’s comforting.”
Shannon agrees. “People think a bereavement group is just sadness, but it’s also about rediscovering connection,” she says. “You can move forward without forgetting. You can carry your person with you while learning to live again.”
Slowly, Danny began doing just that. He started volunteering, driving for Meals on Wheels and helping at the Agape Centre’s tax clinic. “I love it,” he says proudly. “At first, I thought, ‘Why bother?’ But now I look forward to it. I feel useful again.”
The friendships he’s made through the hospice have also become a lifeline. “We still meet once a month for dinner, even after our six-week group ended,” he says. “We keep in touch. We help each other out—sometimes it’s about grief, sometimes it’s just about who can shovel your driveway or fix your lawn mower.”
That sense of connection, of shared experience, is at the heart of what Carefor Hospice Cornwall’s Grief and Bereavement Services offers. “Some people aren’t ready to talk,” Shannon says. “But just showing up, being in a room where others understand—it’s a start. Grieving is personal, but it doesn’t have to be lonely.”
For Danny, that’s been the biggest lesson. “I used to think healing meant forgetting. But now I know I can move forward with Maria, not without her,” he says. “I talk to her picture, I watch our shows, I volunteer. I still miss her, but I’m okay. I’m really okay.”
He glances at the small purple amethyst that sits beside Maria’s candle. “That first rock Shannon gave me said Hope. At the time, I didn’t believe it. But now? Yeah. There’s hope.”
To learn more about or to access Carefor Hospice Cornwall’s grief and bereavement services call 613-938-2763 or visit https://carefor.ca/programs/bereavement-grief-support-groups/
Remembrance Day Feature
At 85 years old, Jim Speiser still carries himself with the quiet confidence of a man who has spent much of his life above the clouds. A veteran of the Royal Canadian Air Force, Jim now spends his days a little closer to the ground—attending the Friday Men’s Group at Carefor’s Adult Day Program for people living with dementia which he’s better part of for over a year. But his stories, and his legacy, continue to soar.
As someone who enlisted in the military at 23, you can see the comfort that comes from being part of a community gives Jim as he laughs with the other men in the group. That sense of people part of a group—of belonging—has been a constant throughout Jim’s life. “You feel like you’re part of something important with the military,” says Jim. “Defending our county.”
Leaving the Farm for the Skies
Jim didn’t grow up planning to join the military. Raised in the small farming town of Laird, Saskatchewan, his early life was spent tending fields, not flying planes. “I was working on the farm, five, nine, ten hours a day,” he recalls. “One day I thought, there’s got to be a better way.”
So he decided he’d had enough of working on the farm and seeking a better life with better pay, he made a decision that would change the course of his life. He enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force, packed his bags, and left the prairies behind.
He laughs at the memory. “I didn’t know where I’d end up. Just thought it would be a better life.”
After basic training, Jim’s aptitude for coordination and quick thinking earned him a place in pilot training. “They’d line up 40 or 50 of us, make us run, lift, march, and see who could handle it,” he says. “Then one day they called out some names and said, ‘Congratulations—you’re pilots.’”
For Jim, flying came naturally. “Once you’re up there, you fall in love with every airplane,” he says. “They were fast, manoeuvrable—beautiful machines.”
He trained on a range of aircraft, from British Chipmunks and Harvards to sleek T-birds, CF101 VooDoo and CF-104 Starfighters. Though his time in service didn’t see direct combat, he played a key role in readiness operations—dogfighting simulations, air-to-ground training, and after retiring from his military career Jim flew strategic reconnaissance missions in Canada’s far north.
“We were always ready,” he says. “You train, you prepare, and you do your job. That’s what being in the military is—doing your part.”
A Family That Flies Together
Jim met his wife during training in Penhold, Alberta. Together, they raised three children while moving between postings including Winnipeg, Bagotville, Quebec, Germany and Ottawa. “The kids learned early that home isn’t a place—it’s the people you’re with,” he says.
Two of those children went on to serve in the Canadian military themselves. His eldest son joined in his twenties, while his youngest daughter attended the Royal Military College straight out of high school.
“My daughter joined the Air Force right out of the RMC (Royal Military College of Canada)” Jim, who retired as a Captain, says proudly. “She’s a few ranks above where I was.” Not only is Jim’s daughter in the RCAF, she is Lieutenant-General Jamie Speiser-Blanchet, the 22nd Commander of the Royal Canadian Air Force and the first ever woman to hold this role, something Jim is incredibly proud of jokingly referring to her as “The General”.
Jim’s son Mike joined the military after university serving 31 years, however in the Navy. Mike is now retired and works for the government.
“They both did what they were meant to do,” Jim says. “They saw what the military gave me—discipline, purpose, a life full of adventure—and they wanted that too.”
For Jim, watching his children carry on his legacy has been one of his greatest honours. “It’s not about medals,” he says softly. “It’s about knowing they’ve taken the same path. That they’ve learned the same lessons—work hard, do your job, take care of your team.”
The Bonds That Last
When Jim talks about his years of service, he doesn’t dwell on danger or hardship. Instead, he talks about camaraderie—the shared sense of purpose that comes from serving alongside others.
“The Air Force was like a big family,” he says. “Wherever you went you were surrounded by people who understood what it meant to serve.”
You can see Jim enjoys the Men’s Group at the day program. It offers him that sense of camaraderie that he’s known through his time in the military, which can often be lost in one’s later years.
Remembering the Why
As Remembrance Day approaches, Jim reflects on what the day means to him and his family.
“It’s about remembering the people who gave everything,” he says quietly. “We were lucky, some of us. But a lot weren’t. You think of them.”
He’ll be attending the Remembrance Day Services at his local Legion in Osgoode this year, spending the day with those who served. For Jim, the day is not about grand gestures, but about gratitude—for the opportunities, the friendships, and the life that service gave him.
“I didn’t join for glory,” he says. “I joined to work, to fly, to do something that mattered. That’s all any of us wanted—to do our part.”
And now, decades later, surrounded by friends at Carefor and with two of his children carrying on the mission, Jim’s legacy continues to take flight.
Thank you so much to Jim and to all those who have served in the Canadian Military. We will remember.
Robert Perry was living in what some might call “the worst apartment in Ottawa”. Living in a unit behind seven dumpsters on the ground floor of a 10-story apartment off Montreal Road, his apartment was infested with cockroaches, rats and mice. His apartment was also used as a thoroughfare into the building by some, resulting in Robert being assaulted one evening by a drug addict who broke in. It was also while living in this apartment that Robert had to have his legs amputated, resulting in him being confined to a wheelchair.
This is where Carefor social worker Marc Viau came into Robert’s life. Marc’s role goes far beyond paperwork and referrals. He builds trust, listens deeply, and advocates fiercely for his clients. When he met Robert, he knew immediate action was needed. “No one should live like this,” Marc said, reflecting on the urgency of Robert’s situation.
Marc immediately contacted Ottawa Community Housing and wrote Robert’s City Councillor, MP and MPP resulting in a five-person task force being created to find Robert a safe place to live. That safe place to live ended up being a small hotel room near St. Laurent Mall which was too small for Robert be able to manage in his wheelchair resulting in him not being able to access his bedroom or bathroom and on one occasion ending up on his apartment floor for seven hours waiting for paramedics.
Marc knew his work wasn’t done and continued to work with Ottawa Community Housing to find Robert his current home, a one-bedroom unit with a private entrance and back garden in a peaceful treelined neighbourhood near Hunt Club and Conroy. The impact on Robert’s life has been profound. “I feel like a human being again,” he shares, his voice filled with emotion. He has regained a sense of dignity and hope. “Marc is an angel,” he says. “I don’t know where I’d be without him.”
Marc, in turn, emphasizes that this is what social work is all about—meeting people where they are and walking with them toward a better future. Carefor isn’t known for social work but it’s an important part of the support Carefor provides seniors through some very challenging times. Marc is one of only two social workers at Carefor, both of whom have every increasing caseload with issues that they haven’t seen before.
“We’re seeing more seniors losing their social assistance and housing due to new government rules about submitting taxes on time,” says Marc. “We’re also seeing more issues affecting new immigrants and more gunshot wounds,” he says speaking about a 22-year-old palliative client that he has. As Ontario Health atHome provides Carefor clients four visits from a social worker, Marc has to work quickly and effectively to have a real impact on their lives.
As Robert settles into his new home, he’s already thinking about the future. Carefor Occupational Therapist Jany Bourassa visited Marc at the end of October with a new wheelchair to help him be able to access his old community and social network; and after the passing of his beloved cat Simon, Marc is looking to find Robert a service cat to help provide Robert with some companionship and a sense of purpose. “I need to have something to care for,” says Robert.
In a world where many seniors face isolation and inadequate housing, stories like Robert’s shine a light on what’s possible when care is personal, persistent, and rooted in dignity. Thanks to Marc and the team at Carefor, Robert has not only found a new home—he’s found new hope. “I thought my last place would be where I die,” says Robert, ‘but know I know it’ll be this place.”
Watch the short video of Robert’s story.
Anthony Tse sits across from a friend at Carefor’s Carling Adult Day Program, brush in hand, carefully writing Chinese characters in calligraphy. The two talk about history, Anthony pulling from his deep personal experiences. At 92 years old, the retired surgeon still carries with him a curiosity for learning, and a love of connecting with others.
For Anthony, the Carling Adult Day Program is more than a place to go each week—it helps him stay connected and active, something his blindness and fading hearing can be a barrier to. Carefor’s Adult Day Program is designed for people living with dementia, giving them opportunities to engage socially, participate in activities, and share their stories, while also providing family caregivers a much-needed break. In Anthony’s case, it gives his wife Kathy peace of mind knowing he is in a safe and supportive environment.
Despite the challenges of dementia, Anthony continues to shine in conversations with peers and staff. He loves to speak about a wide range of topics, drawing on his remarkable life experiences. These discussions keep his mind stimulated, while also inspiring those around him. For Anthony, staying socially connected is vital, and the program gives him that space to share, listen, and belong.
Anthony’s path to medicine was shaped by perseverance and faith. Born and raised in Macau, China, he graduated high school shortly after the Communist revolution in 1949, a time when opportunities were scarce for young people. In 1951, he left Macau for Southern China to begin studying medicine under prominent U.S. doctors and professors who had escaped Beijing. He then traveled to Eastern China for five years to complete his surgical training under a Chief of Surgery who was an English missionary. Fluent in English from his experience in Missionary-led Christian churches, Anthony often found himself the only student using Western medical journals, which shaped his understanding of modern medicine.
By the early 1960s, Anthony had relocated to Hong Kong, where the city’s population had exploded and many refugees were living in overcrowded settlements. He worked as a physician for the Refugee Medical Service, a U.S.-funded program run by a doctor from California. Anthony oversaw six doctors, collectively seeing more than 300 patients a day, and worked in this demanding role for five to six years.
Anthony’s career and community leadership then brought him to Canada, arriving in St. John’s, Newfoundland, with his first wife and two children in the late 1960s. While practicing medicine, he also helped welcome Chinese students at the University, opening his home for a Wednesday prayer group, holding fellowships on Fridays, taking groups sightseeing and fishing on Saturdays, and hosting Sunday afternoon services at a local church. He later financed the building of a church, nurturing the community for 15 years before returning to Macau to care for his mother after his father passed away.
Every person who comes to Carefor’s adult day programs comes with a life of stories and experiences. Our staff are blessed to learn from all those who have come into our lives. Whatever their circumstances are today, our clients bring with them a lifetime of memories.
Now retired, Anthony’s days may look different, but through Carefor’s Adult Day Program, he continues to find connection, purpose, and joy. He captured that feeling in a poem he wrote for the program, which reads:
Carefor is love
What is love?
Love is patient and kind
Love is not jealous, not boastful
Love never ceases
At 89, Neil McLelland still had a lot of plans for his life. Holding him back was his body. Aging can take its toll and after a fall that left him in the hospital for three months, it had taken its toll on Neil.
On March 4th he was discharged home where he was supported by the Bruyere atHome program. This innovative partnership between Carefor and Bruyère Health is reducing the likelihood of hospital readmissions by offering a concert of wrap around services including personal support, physiotherapy, dietetics, social work, transportation, homemaking and meal delivery.
On May 5th, Carefor celebrated one year of supporting the Bruyère atHome program. In that time, our staff have supported 350 client offering either 8 or 16 weeks of coordinated care based on their needs.
Visits in the first year:
- 889 Nursing
- 705 Occupational Therapy
- 609 Social Work
- 4,427 Physiotherapy
- 108 Dietetics
- 10,128 Personal Support
In the 16 weeks that he is part of the Bruyère atHome program, Neil has been supported by a physiotherapist offering exercises, an occupational therapist helping with equipment, a PSW helping with bathing and social worker helping Neil and his wife find a retirement that suits their needs.
Neil’s goal is simple: he wants to walk outside again, and he works hard at it, his face straining with the effort he puts into each exercise. With his spirit and Carefor staff, it looks like he has a good shot at success.
For the Haramis family, death was not a journey anyone faced alone. It has always been shared with love, togetherness, and honouring life in its final moments. Through the experiences of losing their beloved uncle, Father Rudy Villeneuve, and more recently their parents, the 10 Haramis siblings have come to understand the deep meaning of what it means to be truly present at the end of life. Peggy and Harry Haramis and their sister Cathy Malyon say that much of that understanding was made possible by the compassionate care they received at Carefor Hospice Cornwall.
Their first experience with Hospice came in 2011, when the mother’s brother Father Rudy, was diagnosed with cancer in his 80s. He was more than just an uncle. “He was a big part of our lives from the day we were born to the day he died,” the family recalls.
Walking through the hospice doors for the first time felt overwhelming. “It was really sad,” says Peggy. “It felt like a living funeral. He’s going to walk in and not walk out.” But within minutes, that feeling shifted. “It felt like a resort. We just knew he was going to be well cared for.”
Father Rudy’s three weeks at Hospice were filled not with sorrow but joy, humour, and connection. The family reminisced, laughed, and spent time just being together. “Rather than focusing on his care, we were able to focus on him. He had a great sense of humour. We had some really happy and funny times,” remembers Harry.
“They saw us, not just the patient. If they saw you needed it,
they would hug you. They treated the family, too.”
A Wedding at Hospice
A moment that defined the hospice experience came when their friend Margaret’s partner, Jim Campbell—also in hospice at the time—expressed a final wish: to marry Margaret. Though at first hesitant, Margaret agreed, and in a beautiful, intimate ceremony held in Father Rudy’s room and officiated by Father Rudy himself, they were married. Peggy sang at the wedding. Staff at Hospice even arranged a reception. “There was so much love,” the family remembers. “Hospice didn’t just make it happen—they made it beautiful.”
The staff were extraordinary. “They knew the end was coming, and they helped us take advantage of that time,” says Cathy. “They saw us, not just the patient. If they saw you needed it, they would hug you. They treated the family, too.”
Care for Their Mother in Her Final Days
That same care and compassion guided them again in February 2024, when their 98-year-old mother, Marion, spent her final days at Carefor Hospice Cornwall. “Mom held on until all of us could be there,” says Peggy. “She said what she needed to say to each of us. That wouldn’t have happened in a hospital.”
Each moment with her was a gift. “She shared special memories with each of us,” says Cathy. Years before, their mother told her grandson, Nicholas, that if he was ever scared that he could imagine her arms around him. During their final phone call from New York City with his grandmother at Hospice, “Nicholas said the same thing to her, that if she was scared she could feel his arms around her.”
Their mother’s passing came after a hard decision. She developed a gallbladder infection, and the family had to decide whether to treat her. “It would have extended the process in a way that was unnatural,” says Harry. “Having her die with dignity and love was very important to us.”
“She’d be 100 this year,” Cathy adds. “Letting her go was hard. We all had some doubts if it was the right time. But in the end, the support we received from Hospice felt like a gift from God.”
Today, the family continues to reflect on how much Hospice meant to them. “Our lives changed the day she passed,” says Peggy. “Everything we did was to take care of Mom. Hospice gave us a place to begin that transition.”
The Caring Continues
Even now, the connection to Carefor Hospice continues. The family has been welcomed back for memorial events, and staff still reach out. “Some of the conversations we had with the nurses were amazing,” says Cathy. “They didn’t just look after Mom—they looked after us. It takes a special kind of person to do that.”
Faith has always been central to the Haramis family, and the hospice honoured that too. “They embrace what’s important to each family,” Peggy says. “They learn your story. They support it.”
In the end, their journey through death was one of life, love, and connection. “Death doesn’t just happen to the person dying,” says Cathy. “It happens to the whole family. And at Hospice, we were never alone.”
Forty per cent of Carefor Hospice Cornwall’s services are provided through donor support. If you able to help us continue to provide compassionate end of life care to people in your community, we would be very grateful if you would consider a donation: https://carefor.ca/donate-cornwall-hospice/
22. To many, it can be a small number. To seniors, however, 22% of them have been diagnosed with depression, which can often be caused by some of the realities of aging such as isolation or deteriorating health. That’s nearly one in four people over 65 living with a mental health challenge. It’s far too many and the resources available to them are far too few.
The Mental Health Commission of Canada makes it clear that there are many seniors – our loved ones – who are struggling with mental health. Christine, a member of Carefor’s Let’s Get Together Club, is one of them.
Christine has been attending the Let’s Get Together Club since 2022. She says she loves it, and that she looks forward to it every week. She described how she is often unable to sleep much the night before because of how excited she is to get up in the morning to go to the Club.
Christine lost her husband about twenty years ago, and since she has been struggling with depression. She doesn’t have many friends in her life. She lost them during COVID, along with two of her neighbors whom she was very close to, leaving her broken hearted.
During COVID, she was cut off from her doctor and social worker, leaving her that much more alone. While she had her dog and cat for company, they weren’t enough. For years, Christine’s doctor tried to convince her to go to a social group to find support, but she resisted. Eventually she relented and attended a group at the Royal Ottawa Mental Health Centre. Just a few weeks was enough to make her realise how valuable a group focused on mental health is.
When the group shut down, she moved to Carefor. The Let’s Get Together Club is the only one of its kind in Ottawa that supports seniors living with mental health challenges. Not only does it help people build friendships and community, it also allows staff to refer clients to other community programs.
Christine has found a community at Club which has enriched her life. The friendships she’s made don’t just stay within the walls of the Club as she and her friends from the Club often go on outings together to the mall and bookstores.
“For most of us,” Christine said, “there’s been a reason why we ended up here. That reason doesn’t matter. We’ve ended up here.” She said it with such certainty in her gentle voice that it was clear to see how much the Let’s Get Together Club meant to her. Without this Club, where would she be?
If you would like to know more about the Let’s Get Together Club, please visit our website. To donate to support the Club and people like Christine, go to: www.carefor.ca/donate
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