To be seen, to be heard

Columnist Carrie O'Neill looks at her journey with seniors

To be seen, to be heard Published 6:00 pm Tuesday, July 14, 2026 One thing I have come to know with certainty in this life is that every person carries a quiet, enduring desire — to be seen, to be heard, and to know, without question, that they matter. Sometimes, it is in the simplest of moments — a gentle hello, a pause in a busy day, or a sincere, “How are you today?”

— that this need is met. And in those small exchanges, something profound happens. A person feels acknowledged.

Remembered. Valued. My journey with seniors began many years ago within Independent Living Retirement Communities.

Almost immediately, I sensed I had stepped into something far greater than a job. There was meaning in the rhythm of those days. In the quiet conversations.

In the presence that was so often all that was needed. Over time, I began to notice something remarkable. When I slowed down — when I truly sat, listened, and allowed myself to be deeply curious about the lives of those around me — something shifted.

Eyes would brighten. Faces would soften into genuine smiles. Stories, once tucked away, began to gently rise to the surface.

It was as though, in being given the space to share, something within them awakened. A sense of worth. A sense of significance.

A remembering of who they had been — and still were. In those moments, I realized I was witnessing something far more meaningful than conversation. It was connection.

It was validation. It was the quiet, powerful reminder that their lives — their stories — still mattered. It was one August, with Remembrance Day quietly approaching, when I had the privilege of sitting with three remarkable gentlemen — each a veteran of the Second World War, having served in the Navy, Artillery Unit, and Armoured Car Unit.

What began as a simple conversation unfolded into something far deeper. Over time, we sat together in a series of interviews — gently walking through their lived experiences of war. As their stories emerged, so too did the emotion.

There were tears. There was laughter. And woven through it all was a profound sense of brotherhood.

These were stories that had rarely been spoken aloud in the years following the war. Yet, in being met with curiosity, patience, and deep respect... something opened. They were seen.

They were heard. And in the telling of their stories, there was a quiet sense of healing — perhaps even a measure of closure. Not long after their stories were shared, each of these men passed, within a short time of one another.

The honour of holding their stories is something I will carry with me, always. It was in those sacred moments that my writing journey began — capturing the life stories of seniors, preserving their voices, and honouring the moments that shaped who they became. And so, I made the decision to leave my structured role and build something of my own.

Today, I have the deep privilege of walking alongside seniors and their families in meaningful, everyday ways. Locally, throughout Armstrong, Vernon, and Lumby, I offer companionship and errand services, respite support for those caring for loved ones with medical challenges, and visits to individuals living in care settings — providing gentle and thoughtful updates back to their families. Carrie O’Neill offers legacy writing and can be reached at 250-309-7496.