When my mom, who hated hospitals and had a major needles phobia, finally agreed to surgery to remove a long-ignored fibroid, she was terrified. The procedure uncovered late-stage ovarian cancer, which was inoperable. This diagnosis began her journey of daily blood thinning needles into her belly (administered by me!) chemo treatments, managing symptoms, pain, and anxiety from March 2023 to June 2024. It also initiated her permanent move from Ontario to Cortes which had previously been seasonal. Pain and symptom management were especially difficult because of her adverse reactions to pharmaceuticals, particularly opiates, leaving us to rely on Advil, Tylenol, heating pads and constant, vigilant care. Despite the challenges, my mom remained in significant denial about how sick she was, holding on to hope for treatments and recovery.

In those months, I learned more than I ever expected about caregiving and the resources available on Cortes. Unfortunately, I didn’t know about the clinic’s lending program for medical equipment and home care resources until after we had already purchased a hospital bed, and various mobility aids. Family members came periodically to help Edward and me with her care, but as her condition declined, her needs became increasingly overwhelming. Nights were especially hard; alarms and baby monitors became our norm as we worked to ease her pain and support her basic needs.

Though we had been making arrangements for a home death, the strain became too much. In May, after Edward fell ill with COVID and I was left managing her care alone while working full-time, I made the difficult decision to call an ambulance. The escalating pain, leg cramps, panic attacks, and physical decline made it impossible to continue at home. What began as a harrowing experience in the hospital (when the emerge doctor insisted on giving her hydro morphine without reading her chart and against my strong disapproval), shifted dramatically when we transferred her to hospice care in Comox. The hospice team provided extraordinary support, allowing me to step back from being her nurse and simply be her daughter again.

The week we spent in hospice was a gift. All the family gathered to sing, play music, and surround my mother with love. Volunteers helped us craft a beautiful shroud for her burial, and thanks to the cooperation between the Cortes Death Care Collective and the hospice staff, the process of bringing her body home was seamless.

Returning to Cortes, we were met with overwhelming community support. Friends had turned her cottage into a serene resting place with flowers and candles. The Death Care Collective took care of every detail, from digging her grave with reverence to creating a beautiful burial site adorned with altars and a rain tent. The outpouring of love and care extended to food, with meals arranged through the Collective and a last-minute reception catered by Carrie from the Sunflower Food Truck—a miraculous act of kindness.

This incredible community came together to honour my mother in ways I couldn’t have imagined. The beauty, reverence, and support we received were life-altering. I am left with profound gratitude and a deeper appreciation for the magic of Cortes Island and the people who make it such a special place. A special thanks to Margaret, Emma, Yasmina, Ron, Randy, Dancing Wolf and all the other volunteers and my amazing friends for holding us so beautifully.

Written by Kira MacDuffee