In 2011, 1.4 million Canadians received home care, a 55 percent increase from 2008.

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Grandfather loved to garden. He would spend hours in the backyard wearing his straw hat and planting vegetables or weeding his flowerbeds.

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I’m 60 years old and last month I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. Although I was eating more than I should, I always tried to choose healthy alternatives whenever I could.

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Nicole wanted to arrange a visit with my mother, her grandmother, who just the month before celebrated her 96th birthday.

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When I married, I moved only 30 minutes away from my dad’s apartment. Seven years ago he suffered a mild stroke and that short car ride was too far.

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I retired to become my mother’s primary caregiver. After five years, when she lost her battle with cancer, it was a difficult period.

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My Aunt Betty came to live with me when she found it hard to manage on her own. She had never married because she had been her elderly parents’ caregiver.

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My granny and I were very close. I loved how her feisty attitude and quick wit made everything fun.

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My father was a bachelor until he met my mother, who was much younger than him, at quite a late age. They married and I was born a year later.

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My grandfather passed away a few years ago after a brave battle with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. In his prime, he was a tall, strong man who could move a washing machine or refrigerator without batting an eyelash.

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