The compassion, comfort, and community that made all the difference during my mother’s hospice journey.

My mom was tiny in stature but enormous in spirit. She was a school teacher who liked things organized, structured, and running properly. She was very good at keeping everyone in line. Alongside that practical and disciplined side was a huge heart for people and community. She loved bringing others together.

In the 1980s, she had this burning desire to start a community choir. At the time, many people thought it was unrealistic in such a small community. But she created it. The first concert had about a dozen in the audience and maybe 10 in the choir, but years later, there were sold out performances at the Chatham Cultural Centre.

One of the greatest gifts I was able to give my mom in her last season was arranging hospice care for her. Fortunately, before the cancer progressed too much, Mom and I met with Amber, one of the Hospice Navigators, and got the wheels in motion. I’m so grateful we did it early, before it became a time of crisis.

Hospice was also a wonderful support to me. I began grief counseling there with Stefanie before my mom got seriously ill. I don’t think people always realize that grief begins long before someone passes away. There is grief in the anticipatory stages too, in watching someone you love decline and trying to prepare yourself for what is coming. By the time my mom entered hospice care, I already had a trusted relationship with my grief counsellor. I wasn’t trying to build that connection while simultaneously walking through the hardest days of my life. I already had support in place.

That is something I now encourage people to take advantage of sooner rather than later. The grief and bereavement support offered through Hospice is such an important part of the care they provide.

When my mom came to Hospice, the experience was incredibly comforting. From the moment we arrived, there was this overwhelming sense that we were being cared for too, not just my mom. Suddenly, I wasn’t responsible for managing every detail. Instead, I could focus on simply being with her.

The day my mom arrived happened to be her 87th birthday. The staff were absolutely phenomenal. They decorated her room with a Happy Birthday banner adorned with music notes, a fitting tribute for someone who had spent so much of her life bringing people together through music. They brought in a birthday cake with candles and gathered to sing Happy Birthday to her. It was a simple gesture, but it meant so much to our family. In the midst of such a difficult season, they gave us a moment of celebration, joy, and dignity. It was one of the sweetest acts of kindness we experienced during her time there.

It was much different than the experience I had with my father who passed away at home. We were trying so hard to coordinate care and manage everything ourselves that it often felt like we were in survival mode. The Hospice experience with Mom was much calmer and more peaceful.

One of the things that surprised me most was how much comfort came from something as simple as the kitchen. Hospice can feel intimidating, especially for children. My daughters were young and understandably nervous about coming. But when they arrived to find homemade soup, cookies, and kind staff, they felt very much at home.

That kitchen became much more than a place where food was prepared. It became a place of comfort and connection. We would gather there between visits to my mom’s room. We would sit with coffee or soup and just take a breath for a moment. It gave us something familiar and comforting to hold onto during such a difficult time.

And practically speaking, it mattered so much that meals were simply there. When you are emotionally exhausted and walking through anticipatory grief, even thinking about what to feed your family can feel overwhelming. Having that care wrapped around us lifted a tremendous burden.

My mom would have appreciated that deeply because caring for people was always second nature to her. Even now, after she is gone, the impact she left behind continues through the choir she built and the relationships she helped create. In many ways, that is what Hospice does too. It creates connection, comfort, and community during some of life’s hardest moments.

I will always be grateful for the care our family received through Chatham-Kent Hospice.

As Hospice looks toward renovating and expanding their kitchen space, I can say firsthand that it is so much more than a kitchen. It is comfort. It is care. It is community. It is one of the many ways families feel supported and held during the hardest days of their lives.

For our family, it made all the difference.

Shared by Janice in memory of her mother, Alma