If I close my eyes, I can still feel the overwhelming gratitude in this photo. It was July 2017, and I was so confident I’d have Mom for another 30 years. As the healthiest member of our family, I’d always assumed she’d live into her late nineties, just like her own mother was doing. But I was wrong. In less than five years, Mom’s life would end at age 72.  

In April 2021, our family was blindsided by Mom’s hemorrhagic stroke. It launched us into a frantic battle to save her life, but six months into her rehabilitation, we were delivered a crushing blow. Mom had an underlying brain condition. The news was a blur…ruptured blood vessels…irreparable brain damage…gradual deterioration into a vegetative state…recovery was impossible. With this devastating prognosis, combined with daily bouts of debilitating pain, Mom made the courageous decision to pursue MAID.  

I did not want Mom to die…it was a quarter century too soon. As her co-Power of Attorney, I thought I could stop her but legally I wasn’t allowed to interfere.  

So, we tried everything humanly possible to improve her quality of life. Nothing worked. I even begged her to reconsider, but it just wasn’t fair. I couldn’t ask her to endure a bleak existence because I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I knew I had to honour her wishes. But getting approved for MAID wasn’t that easy. The stroke had ravaged Mom’s brain circuitry, causing her to mix up her words. In the first assessment, when asked if she was sure she wanted to die, her body language screamed “yes” while her brain answered “no.” This was a problem.  

Fortunately, Mom had two compassionate physicians who were willing to go above and beyond for her. They agreed to multiple assessments, but with the looming threat of another stroke leaving her completely incapacitated, we were running out of time. If Mom didn’t qualify for MAID, the grim alternative was to place her in a medically induced coma until she died naturally. With her healthy heart, this could take years, and it was definitely NOT what Mom wanted.  

“Sisu” is a Finnish term meaning guts, inner strength, grit, determination, and perseverance. It’s pushing yourself beyond all physical and psychological limits when facing insurmountable odds. Mom reached into the depths of her Finnish roots and showed us all what “sisu” really meant. On her last chance to qualify, Mom won her fight for a dignified death. MAID was set for February 7, 2022.  

In the days, hours, and minutes leading up to MAID, I’d ask Mom if she was afraid to die. Each time, she shook her head with absolute certainty. There was no confusing her words now – she was ready.  

I was so blown away by her epic display of stoicism that I had to write “SISU: How My Mother’s Fight For Her Death Changed the Course of My Life.” It’s Mom’s “pick of the month,” so she can still participate in both of her book clubs in spirit. And that photo I can still feel? It’s the “About the Author” photo in the back of our book.  

For the full story, please visit shaanahamm.com.

Last fall, I flew to my hometown to hand-deliver copies to Mom’s book clubs…and take her place in their discussions. I was also invited to speak on a MAID discussion panel, sitting beside the doctor who provided MAID for Mom. This was a pivotal moment. 

 As someone who’d been dead against Mom pursuing MAID, I got to share what a gift it truly was. MAID provided the most peaceful death any of us could’ve ever imagined. Mom got to leave this world surrounded by love. I’ll never wonder what her last moments were like, had she died alone in a medically-induced coma. I know exactly what happened because I was holding her in my arms, whispering the most comforting words I could think of into her ear. And I get to be Mom’s voice now that she can no longer speak.