My name is Archie, and I’ve been volunteering with Hope & Cope, on and off, for about ten years. Many people have asked me how I first became interested in visiting patients in the palliative care unit.
It began with hearing an interview on a podcast of the CBC program, Tapestry, hosted by Mary Hines. Tapestry’s website describes its goal as providing a “guide through the messy business of being human.”
The podcast that grabbed my attention featured an interview with a nurse, Sandra Clarke, who began a Palliative Care volunteer program at the Sacred Heart Medical Center in Springfield, Oregon, in 2001. The organization’s name is “No One Dies Alone.”
In a brief YouTube video, she tells her story of what moved her to fill a void in a patient’s care at the end of their life. She cites having witnessed one man who was completely alone at the very end. That man’s death with no one at his bedside apparently was not a rare event, and she was determined to bring about important change.
Her story made me want to act. I thought: Maybe I can also fill such a void by just being there.
I reached out to Dr. Michael Dworkind—a friend—and one of the pioneers of palliative care at the Jewish General Hospital. He put me in touch with the volunteer coordinator. That was the beginning.
Why do I keep coming back? Because it feels good. Not in the surface way we sometimes throw that phrase around, but in the deep, quiet kind of way that makes one feel human.
Each time I visit a patient; I think of that nurse’s story. I remember the power of just being there. Whether it’s a few minutes or half an hour, whether we talk about something big or nothing much at all, I know I’m helping. And that means something special to me.
Through volunteering I’ve become more sensitive to people. Not just patients, but people in general. I didn’t realize how much of a connection one can establish in a few minutes.
When I started, I had no idea what I was getting into. But through this work, I’ve learned that I can gain the trust of even a stranger. They can open up and share something personal—sometimes not profound, but still meaningful.
That trust? It’s priceless.
Some call it spiritual. I do too. But not in a religious sense. It’s not about God, per se. It’s about the sacredness of human connection. In those moments, something godly happens between two people.
There was one day I’ll never forget. A patient had died a short while before I began my shift, and his wife and daughter had been sitting with him for quite some time following his death. They wanted to leave to make the funeral arrangements. In Jewish tradition, the deceased shouldn’t be left alone until the burial.
The social worker on duty asked me to stay with him until the orderlies would come around 45 minutes later.
I was scared. I won’t lie. I had never done such an act before. The idea of sitting alone in a room with a dead person shook me. But I said yes. I felt that if I was afraid, that was even more reason to do it.
So, I sat.
I was nervous. I imagined horror movie scenarios in my head, but I stayed. I sat in silence, honouring his presence. It was one of the most powerful things I’ve ever done. His wife and daughter were free to go, knowing someone was still there with him. That experience changed me.
Now, among my other activities, I also visit patients who are receiving radiation or chemo treatments. These people are expected to return to health, and supporting them is rewarding in a different but equally meaningful way. Hope lives there too.
To anyone considering volunteering in palliative care, I say: Do it. You won’t regret it. The rewards aren’t flashy, but they are deep. You’ll feel it in your bones. You’ll go home knowing that for even just a few minutes, you mattered to someone.
And really, when all is said and done, that’s what I want from this life. Not applause. Just the quiet satisfaction of knowing I did something good for someone else. While I was here.
If Archie’s story inspires you, we invite you to apply to become a Hope & Cope volunteer. We’re always looking for more people with hearts of gold who want to help people with cancer. We look forward to meeting you!
Where we gather to honour people living with cancer, support one another, and celebrate every milestone.
The holiday season upon is upon us, and our staff is taking some well-earned time off.
The Wellness Centre will be closed from December 22, 2025, to January 2, 2026.
Our office on E7 at the JGH will be closed from December 24, 2025, to January 2, 2026.
We look forward to welcoming you back when we reopen on January 5, 2026.
If you need immediate support during this time, please contact your healthcare team or visit your nearest emergency department.
Wishing you and your loved ones peaceful holidays.
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