One Final Goodbye

C first came to St John’s Care seeking support for his most basic needs - food, a listening ear, a place where he felt safe. Over time, that support grew into something deeper and more complex. Alongside practical assistance, I worked closely with C through case management, spending many years gently unpacking and addressing a long, intense, and deeply rooted trauma history.

Often, C would come in without a specific request. Sometimes he just wanted a cup of tea and a conversation. He would sit quietly, chatting with staff and volunteers, and often spoke about how St John’s Care felt like family to him - a place where he was known, welcomed, and valued.

About twelve months ago, I supported C through a significant transition in his life: a move interstate so he could be closer to additional family support. It was a careful and considered process. Together, we worked to ensure that he had appropriate services and supports in place before he left, so he wouldn’t feel alone in a new environment. After the move, I checked in on C, and he told me he was doing well. Hearing that brought a quiet sense of relief.

A week ago, C walked back into the Centre and asked to see me. I was shocked to see him standing there. While it was wonderful to see his familiar face, it was immediately clear that his physical health had significantly deteriorated. As we sat down together, C’s eyes welled with tears, as he told me about his significant degenerative disease, and his end-of-life care. The weight of his words hung heavily in the room.

Over the next hour, C and I reminisced about the highlights he cherished, the challenges he had endured, and everything in between. There was laughter, sadness, and long moments of quiet reflection.

“You have been there for me for so many years, and I consider you a dear friend. I wanted to say goodbye in person, I’m not sure if I will see you again, but I hope so”, he said.

It was a profound reminder of why places like St John’s Care exist. Beyond food parcels and appointments, we offer something harder to measure but just as vital: connection, dignity, and the comfort of being seen. For C, St John’s Care had been a constant through years of hardship, and in one of the most difficult moments of his life, it was where he returned - to family.

Kind regards,

Robbie Speldewinde

Operations Manager