For 46 years, my life has been shaped by the nursing profession. I began my training at the Royal Children’s Hospital in Melbourne before moving to the Royal Melbourne Hospital. Those early days were overwhelming—I spent six months in tears, learning not just the technical skills of nursing but the emotional resilience it demands. After graduating, I continued in paediatric nursing until I stepped away to raise my children.
When I returned to the workforce, aged care offered the flexibility my family needed. I expected to stay only briefly, but seven years passed before I knew it. I found myself deeply connected to the elderly residents—their humour, their wisdom, their stories. I loved working with them.
Later, while working as a clinical educator at a university, I was introduced to palliative care. It resonated with me on every level: intellectually, spiritually, creatively, and emotionally. It felt like a calling, so, when I retired, I knew exactly where I wanted to give my time. I joined PHH as a volunteer, and for the past four years I’ve been involved in companionship and, more recently, biography writing.
Volunteering in palliative care is meaningful, but it can also be emotionally demanding. To stay grounded, I lean on the people who know me best—my family and friends. Their acceptance and connectedness keep me steady. I also turn to reading when I need to step away from the world for a moment. And when I need deeper restoration, I go to the forest. Being among the trees slows my heart, lowers my blood pressure, and brings a calmness that feels like a reset for the soul.
When I speak to others about palliative care, I tell them that it’s about living in the moment—because that is all any of us truly have. Yes, there are tears, but there is also laughter, joy, and a profound sense of humanity. Volunteers genuinely make a difference.
My favourite part of volunteering with PHH is the exchange of stories, thoughts, fears, loves, and everyday experiences. The sharing that the clients bestow on me is an honour and a gift to receive, a gift I never take lightly. In return, I hope to help them tie the bows on the boxes of their life. To help them see that their life had purpose, that they mattered, and that they still have something meaningful to offer.
Volunteering in palliative care is not about endings; it’s about presence, connection, and the extraordinary privilege of walking alongside someone in their most honest moments. It is, in every sense, a gift.
Special thanks to current volunteer Jan, for sharing her story.
