One evening, after working at Celebrate-A-Life, Claire and I had dinner with a friend of ours whose husband was in the hospital having a knee operation. Somehow, the conversation got around to how much Victoria Hospice meant to her and her husband. Our friend told us her story.

She lived in Vancouver and cared for her former husband for a fairly long time. She spoke of how rewarding it was for her to be given the strength to care for her loved one. After the death of her husband and after carefully assessing her financial situation, she decided to move to Victoria. However, once she was settled in her new home, she found that she had little to occupy her time.

I have heard many similar stories from recently bereaved folks, and it always reminds me of the let down feeling that I experienced after the death of my wife, Collette. I cared for Collette for two and a half years, and I know what it is to suddenly have that terrible sense of loss and to be left with nothing meaningful to do.

Once this dear lady moved to Victoria, she found herself with even fewer friends and absolutely nothing to occupy her time. As so often happens in the life of a newly bereaved person, it became extremely important for her to be involved in some kind of meaningful work. Because her former husband had a cancer-related death, she volunteered with the local Cancer Society. She enjoyed being there, and her instant rapport with seriously ill children was most appreciated. However, her volunteer work became almost an obsession with the result that she had little time for herself and her friends. Her life was now in a state of frenzy, and she felt that everything she did was for others.

One day, a friend mentioned that Victoria Hospice had many programs for bereaved folks, one of which was the Bereavement Self-Help Social Group. After connecting with the Bereavement Office, she attended the Saturday night social. There was a remarkable change in her life. For the first time since her husband died, she felt that she was doing something for herself. She experienced a feeling of being at home, amongst friends, not needing to explain anything, and, most of all, feeling safe.

She became a regular member of our social group and attended most of our gatherings. Her volunteering at the Cancer Society is still a large part of her life.

Several years later, at our Saturday night social, she met and married the man known to us as the Gentle Giant. They are about as happy as any married couple I know, and they love to tell their story. This couple shares with Claire and me the knowledge that we have two wives and two husbands and their loved ones, like ours, are included in their daily lives.