During our fire drill/evacuation at work yesterday, I finally had the opportunity to spend some quality time with Mrs. E. She calls me the ghost, because she heard so much about me before she came but all but vanished once she arrived (one of the greatest challenges of my job).

At our retirement residence, I am the one you speak with if you are considering retirement living for yourself or a loved one. My role is to be a resource as you begin your search, show you around our residence and introduce you to the lifestyle, and ultimately guide you through the move in process. While one of the challenges of my job is pulling away once that role is fulfilled, it is beyond worth it to me, because I get to meet and help the most amazing people.

Mrs. E is an amazing people. Her niece and great-niece came to me in a near panic many months ago. Their beloved Auntie and Uncle lived nearly five hours away and they recently found out that Uncle has terminal cancer. He was declining quickly and would be leaving behind his wife, a fiercely independent lady who is 82 years old, and blind. Uncle had been Auntie’s primary caregiver for nearly her whole life and he was about to die. They didn’t know what to do, and they didn’t know how much time they had to figure it all out.

Mrs. E and her husband were married for about six decades; they didn’t have children of their own but doted on their sibling’s kids on both sides of the family. They worked together as antiques dealers in a small Ontario town; retired in their late 70s and their home was stuffed to the rafters with amazing antiques they’d discovered together. Eventually we learned that Uncle knew he was dying for a while but kept it a secret from everyone. He wanted to protect his beautiful wife, but finally had to speak up because a plan needed to be put in place for his wife, caregiver to the end.

Now, every time I write the word “caregiver” I wonder how much disdain that would cause Mrs. E. As I said, she is a fiercely independent lady, strong and healthy in spite of her years, but also capable and wise because of her years. She does not need a “caregiver.” In the end even she had to admit, however, she couldn’t live alone.

Retirement living was the perfect solution – a place Mrs. E could be independent but not isolated, close to her family but where she could have her own space and do her own thing, with help close at hand if she needed it. I proposed a suite that was laid out in a long, narrow pattern that I hoped would assist Mrs. E in feeling her way around her new home. This suite also had the benefit of a kitchenette so she could make herself snacks, and a patio so she could sit outside when the weather was just right. The crowning glory of this location was that it was directly across from the communal laundry room, she could continue to do her own laundry!

I quickly developed a deep respect and admiration for Mrs. E; I cared about her long before I met her. I was fascinated by the story of her life – born with vision that started to fail at a young age and gradually declined throughout her formative years, who found love and companionship with a good man, eventually becoming a business woman with a profound love for her work. Now, at this late stage of her life, she just found out that she was going to be all alone in the world within weeks. Can you imagine the range of emotions that must have put her through? Anger, sadness, fear; complete and utter heartbreak. It still makes my chest feel heavy to think about all these months later.

Do you know what lightens my chest, though? The conversation we had yesterday. Mrs. E telling me that she is okay. The house was finally sold and it is time to sign the papers soon. They had four estate sales to sell off her antiques. She is used to her surroundings now and has developed a new routine. She likes the people here; it is good to get to know new people again, and mealtimes were always interesting as they discussed their stories and day to day lives. Mrs. E told me she appreciates the assistance she’s gotten over the past several months but she is doing nearly everything independently again now, and while she will always mourn the loss of her dear husband, she is still alive and intent on living every day of her life.