“It’s time to come home.”

As an only child, I always knew the day would come when I needed to take care of my parents. I was living in Lahore, Pakistan, where I was the principal at the Salvation Army training college—an appointment I loved—when those words were finally spoken.

I received a telephone call telling me that my dad had suffered a heart attack and was in the intensive care unit at the hospital in Swift Current, Sask. When you have to travel halfway around the world in an emergency, you realize how far from home you are.

Dad recovered but he was not well.The Salvation Army graciously arranged for my repatriation, not only to Canada but to Shaunavon, Sask. I joined the personnel department at territorial headquarters, working remotely, allowing me to begin my role as a caregiver. I had no comprehension of how this experience would enrich my life.

Giving Care

Taking care of each parent was a different experience. My dad was promoted to glory two years after I returned to Canada. We were able to keep him at home with the help of home-care nursing staff. As his condition deteriorated, he was moved to the hospital for his final six weeks. My mom was home for 10 years before she suffered a stroke and then we entered the world of long-term care for another 4½ years.

Prior to her stroke, I was afraid to leave her at home alone as she was unsteady on her feet, and it was easy to imagine her falling. After her stroke, she could not feed herself or even see the food on her plate due to macular degeneration, so I fed her.

The Salvation Army allowed me to retire early, and I was able to invest all my time into caring for my mother. Her stroke caused weakness to her right arm and leg, and she was confined to a wheelchair. She was apprehensive about entering long-term care and the transition was not easy. I began spending about 10 hours per day with her, and if she became upset in the night I would go back and sit with her.

For me, caregiving was not a 9-to-5 job—it was a 24-7 marathon. I was a caregiver for 14 years, with no days off. It was a whole-hearted commitment.

The hardest things to face were not the sleepless nights or the emotional roller-coasters, but the isolation and aloneness. Coming back to Canada after 13 years overseas, and to a town that I had visited but never lived in, left me without close friendships here. Taking on this role without backup or support was not a good plan, but it seemed the only way forward.

I wasn’t able to attend church for more than 10 years. Was I angry with God? No, I needed him more than ever, but I could not physically be in two places at the same time. I did manage to create what author Henri Nouwen called a “sacred space”—a couple of hours each morning for Scripture, devotional reading and prayer. While this was vitally important, I missed Christian fellowship.

Running on adrenaline and necessity for that length of time is possible, but it does take a toll. God is so good and gives strength when we think we are just too tired to keep going. Looking back now, I am sure he looked at me and just shook his head. Why didn’t I reach out and ask for some help?

Difficult Decisions

One of the greatest challenges of caregiving was having to make medical decisions and live with the outcome. My dad was in terrible pain and was on strong pain medication even before he went to the hospital. He had to be given an extra dose prior to repositioning him in bed.

One day at the hospital, a nurse stopped me in the corridor and told me that there was nothing more they could do for my dad and that I should take him home to die. She was young and inexperienced, so I didn’t reply to the remark. He was in the hospital because it was beyond my capacity to cope with his condition, along with caring for my mom and my work as an officer. The remark hurt and made me think that I had failed my dad but, realistically, taking him to the hospital was the best I could do for him.

When my mother was 94, a medical issue arose and I found myself in an ambulance with her, travelling more than 100 kilometres to the hospital in Swift Current. The doctor had me making decisions immediately as the situation was critical. Standing there alone, without medical knowledge, I just had to pray and believe that the Lord would help me make the right decisions.

Three times the doctor had me go in and say goodbye to my mom because he didn’t think she was going to make it. Three times I went into her room, kissed her on the forehead and told her I loved her. I couldn’t say goodbye because I didn’t believe she would die that night. They were able to get her heart back into a regular rhythm and she survived for two more years. I thank God for that doctor and his kindness, compassion and skill.

Say What You Need to Say

One important lesson I learned from caregiving was that we need to tell people what they mean to us and how they have encouraged us. Why do we often wait until it is too late? I believe we need to encourage each other along this journey of life. I was grateful for the opportunity to be with my parents at the end of their earthly lives. It gave me time to say the things that so often get overlooked in the busyness of life—words of love and appreciation, what they meant to me and how I thanked God for them.

My mom could never stand to be alone and, whatever the memories she lost, she knew I was there. I spent the last three days and nights of her life in her room. The evening she died, she was having trouble breathing so I got on the bed and held her in my arms. I told her I loved her and let her know that she was not alone.

During the time between my dad’s promotion to glory in 2008 and my mom’s in 2020, I lost two aunts, four uncles and four cousins, along with literally dozens who passed through my mom’s long-term care home. It seemed like riding a never-ending wave of death. The experience gave me an even greater appreciation of the hope we have of heaven.

Embracing Others

The experience of caregiving taught me the value of a broken heart. It is when the heart is broken that we can embrace the pain of others. Whatever compassion and empathy I possessed before did not seem to have the depth necessary to cope with what I was experiencing daily. We are called to a ministry of service, sacrifice and suffering. While this might not be a popular theme today, it is what Christ calls us to engage in and what he enables us to accomplish.

Immediately following my mom’s death, the long-term care home went into lockdown. My world came to an abrupt end with no chance for goodbyes. Not only did I lose a loved one, but my whole community was gone. The morning after mom’s funeral, I got up and wondered what to do—the usual routine was no longer relevant. Now, a few years later, I am still looking for my purpose and my place in the real world. God will reveal it in his time.

Caregiving was an incredible “learn as you go” experience—at times difficult, but also a privilege to cherish. No one should be left alone when they are weak or ill. The challenge to care for someone until the end of life may seem daunting, but God gives special grace and will be with us until the journey is completed.

Major Gloria Hammond is a retired Salvation Army officer.

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