My letter to hospice....

Remember the other day?  I told you I wrote a letter to Hospice after my father passed away.  I said I would share it.

I grew immensly after I wrote this, as a person learning to grieve, as a writer, but also as a person who had found her strength.  Although it still took a long while for me to grow, I am incredibly proud of this letter, it has taken a long time to be able to say this.

This letter was published (with some edits of course) in our paper, along with a picture of me holding a flower from his garden.  It was the Hospice's Fundraisor for that year, and they did well.  Most people remarking on a story about 'real people'.

I hope you like my letter.



January 15, 2008

Sarah Thomson
Victoria, BC V9A 3B2

Victoria Hospice and Palliative Care Foundation
1510 Fort Street
Victoria, BC V8S 5J2


Dear friends at hospice:

Please accept my donation in memory of my father, Dr. Terry Russell; he passed away on February 17, 2007 in hospice.

My father was a kind and gentle man; he is survived by his loving wife, 3 children and 5 grandchildren, he was diagnosed with prostate cancer in September of 2004.  His battle was ruthless, painful and heartbreaking.  He was given a short time of reprieve, but not long enough.

My father had surgery in December 2006, he was supposed to be well afterwards, but he wasn’t and it looked like the cancer had won.  He went home early in January, where we thought that we could re-group and perhaps find someway to cure him.  What probably was obvious to others wasn’t to us, we couldn’t lose him this way, and we still wanted him to get better.

When my parents told us that they were going to register with hospice, I resented the idea.  I thought that meant that we were giving up on the fight to save my father.  My thoughts were that hospice was a place where people go to die and at the time, that was an un-bearable contemplation.  I had heard of others that had wonderful things to say about hospice, that it was a caring environment, that there was support there.  I quite honestly couldn’t picture that, how could that be a good place to go?  I pictured in my mind a loud and invasive place.  I thought people would be lined up in the halls screaming and crying, isn’t this what people do when they are faced with losing someone they love and can’t control it?

What I know now is that my father knew he was not going to beat this disease and I like to think that he knew that we, his family, would be taken care of.  My father was supported by the hospice care teams while at home, and then again when he opted to go to hospice five days before he died.

Throughout this past year I have been in debt to your volunteers and your caring counsellors.  I was fortunate enough to have Jacqueline as my counsellor in the early times after my father’s death.  She was a saving grace for me, and the time that was offered to me and subsequently to my siblings and my mother, was, and still is invaluable.

I now can say that my father’s death was peaceful, we were able to be with him in a kind and caring environment. We were given opportunity to say our goodbyes, sit quietly in one of the private rooms on the floor to gather ourselves, or just sit and be with him.

I will give back more to hospice one day, I can’t imagine myself not being a part of such a kind and wonderful place. What I have learned from your volunteers, staff and my father is that hospice is a peaceful place, where real things happen to real people, and whatever happens we are honoured as individuals who will grieve in many different ways, and that grief is a not a terrible thing, it just needs some time and understanding.

Please accept my most sincere gratitude on making what was such a difficult time, become a peaceful one.


Yours sincerely,