At 71, my mom, Suzie – a vibrant and active woman who loved to dance and sing – was diagnosed with a devastating disease that would slowly take control over her body and mind. Her prognosis was five to seven years, but worse would be the unknown around her quality of life. She made her wishes known: “When I can no longer eat, sing, dance and hug, I don’t want to live.” And while she lived the first few years in a state of decline, she was still able to find the simple joys in life.

In the third year, things took a turn for the worse. My mom then spent the next three years bound to a wheelchair, completely dependent on full care, unable to talk and could no longer eat solid food.

My mom was completely aware of her incapacitated state, which in some way made things even worse. Though unable to speak, my mom was able to communicate through a text-to-talk app. She said she didn’t want to live like this anymore and asked me to remind her how much longer she would have to endure the cards she was dealt. I told her the doctor said she could live another year or so. Her reply was, “Oh good.” But when I told her there were no guarantees of a timely passing, she got very upset at the prospect of having to go on like this much longer. I asked if she’d heard of medical assistance in dying (MAID). She hadn’t. I explained that there may be an option for her to end the suffering and “go to sleep” on her own terms, in her own bed, surrounded by her family. She emphatically replied “yes” and so the process with her doctor began.

My mom could barely contain her enthusiasm. After she was approved for MAID, she picked the day, asked to have her hair done and wore her favourite outfit. When we entered the room, she was like a schoolgirl, giddy with excitement, waiting for “her day.” We shared some stories; my mom played her favourite song and some videos of her and my dad dancing. Then she was ready. With a big smile on her face, with her family by her side, my mom – a mere fraction of her former self – found peace and was finally able to take some control back over her life. It was beautiful, empowering and peaceful. Little Suzie – as many liked to call her – returned to her former self, dancing, singing and smiling from above.

Back in 2022, my mum was the only person I knew who had a MAID death. I want to support others in a way that was not accessible to me. Especially when given a dementia diagnosis, many don’t believe they can qualify for MAID, however that’s not always the case. It’s nuanced and can be difficult to navigate, but the option is there for many.