Walking the Hospice talk creates powerful moments for the many volunteers who give so generously of their time. Victoria Hospice holds an annual Celebrate-A-Life event. Each year, a few weeks before Christmas, Hospice provides space in a mall where people may come to remember a loved one. The space is decorated in the Christmas spirit, volunteers provide assistance, and those who wish to are encouraged to write a remembrance of a loved one and place it on the Hospice logo. A book of remembrances is provided, and these remembrances are kept at Hospice. Some people make donations in memory of a loved one, but this event has never been seen as a fundraiser.

One evening in the Mayfair mall, two small children accompanied by a woman approached the table. The little girl was about six or seven, and the little boy about four. The children came closer, but the woman hung back.

The little girl gave me some money, and I helped her to put it into the donation box. I asked her if she wished to write in the Remembrance Book. She looked back at her friend and was encouraged to write in the book. Yes, she said and very carefully printed out, “I love you Mommy.” I then asked the little boy if he would like to write in the Remembrance Book. His sister said, “But he can’t write. I responded, “Never mind. Just let him do pretend writing.”
The little boy took up the pen eagerly and made those squiggling marks that are so meaningful to a young child and so precious to grandparents. He put the pen down and proudly said, “I wrote I miss you Mommy.”

While I sat there in silent wonder at the wisdom and dignity of small children, the little girl leaned closer to me and whispered, “Our mother died at Hospice.”
On another evening, three young men hovered near the volunteers’ table and began a lively discussion. The words old rascal, old man, and son of a gun were heard. Finally, one of the young men said, “Let’s just do it.”

They came over to the table; one wrote in the Remembrance Book, one wrote a cheque, and one stood back a bit, just chuckling to himself. The chap writing the cheque returned the pen and said, “Well that does it; finally, we have the last word.”

Sensing that the volunteers were a little taken aback by this exchange, one young man explained, “Our father was just a super dad. We had a wonderful happy life with him, but never once did we get to have the last word on any subject. So today we have had the last word and to make sure we have put it in your Remembrance Book.”

They turned on a Christmas tree light, and clearly still enjoying their victory, departed.