In my previous post I mentioned a man who recently died of COVID ... he was one of the first people I supported who did not use words to communicate, but clearly had much to say.

Because everyone experiences the loss. Everyone grieves. Whether you lived with the person, worked with the person, or knew them in passing, their departure leaves a hole in the community that is felt much farther than one might expect.

Every time someone dies we grieve. We mourn. We miss them. And then we move on.

Because there’s someone else who needs that space, who needs that funding, who needs that support, who needs our focus.

For four years, I’ve reported on the expansion of medical assistance in dying (MAiD) in Canada. I’ve listened to disabled Canadians share their fears and stories, feeling their sorrow deeply. Through this, I’ve found that MAiD starkly reminds me of Jesus’s hope, generosity, and presence in grief.

Deina Warren, discusses Canada's MAiD framework. Reflecting on a recent court case involving an Alberta father and his autistic daughter, she emphasizes the need for life-affirming care and advocates for improved quality of life.

To better understand what joy means, we met with Steven in Ottawa. Steven radiates joy. Steven loves Christmas. He is a part of Parkway Church South of Ottawa, where he is looking forward to singing Christmas carols and hearing about Jesus’ birth “He was born in the manger,” Steven says. When we asked what Steven likes about the holiday, we found out that he is excited about the gifts. “I like presents,” he says, laughing.