My name is Dianne Starr.
I am 81 years old, and I find myself in a frightening and helpless position.
I have spent my whole life building things — I am a retired interior designer who built her own business, her own friendships, and her own way forward. In 2008 I was caught up in the financial crisis. My business went from a waiting list to nothing at all, and as a single, self-supporting woman I was left with debt even after selling my condo. The San Diego area had simply become too expensive. After some research, I found that moving to the Caribbean would let me double my income and live more affordably. I was in my 60s, healthy, and it felt safe.
For 16 years St. Lucia has been my home. It has given me a wonderful, healthy lifestyle and taught me deep lessons about what truly matters. But the practical realities of aging abroad in a developing nation have caught up with me. After three mini-strokes and a major stroke this past November, my neurologist told me plainly: if I want to survive, I can no longer call St. Lucia home. The quality health care I now need does not exist here.
I have chosen South Florida for its outstanding healthcare, support systems, and benefits. I would have loved to return to San Diego, my real home, but the cost of living there makes it impossible. I don't see this relocation as a defeat. It is simply the next chapter, and I intend to enter it with as much grace as I have all the others.
I won't pretend I'm not afraid. The hardest part is my three older Yorkshire terrier mixes — my "kids." Can they survive the move? Will I find a place that takes all three? Can my heart survive leaving them, or the cost of bringing them with me? These questions keep me up at night.
I need help getting there. An international move at my age carries real costs, and here is an honest breakdown of the fixed ones:
- Flights to Miami with luggage for my belongings, plus transport and kennels for my three dogs
- A rental requiring first month, last month, security, and hopefully a pet deposit
- Shipping a few lifetime possessions that mean the world to me
- Bridge funding for the medical testing and treatment to find out why I keep having strokes — and to examine a hard lump on my liver
- Transportation to medical appointments and to the agencies where I'll apply for benefits
- Food and basic living costs while I settle
- Miscellaneous and unforeseen expenses
Looking at the numbers honestly and conservatively, I need between $25,000 and $30,000 to make this transition safely, with dignity, and without the terror of ending up on the street.
I have never asked for help like this before. I have always been proud of my independent nature, and that pride is something circumstance cannot take from me. But I have lived long enough to know that accepting help is not weakness — it is one of the most human things there is. I have no siblings, no children, and only distant cousins I am not close to. I am facing this largely alone.
If you are able to contribute anything at all, I would be deeply and genuinely grateful. Every dollar brings me one step closer to the care I need and the peace of mind I long for — to leave here safely before lack of medical care costs me my life.
And if you cannot give financially, please share this page so it reaches someone who can. That act of generosity would mean the world to me.
This letter has taken me days to write, straight from my heart. It is not just any plea — it is a continuation of my life. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for whatever you are able to do.
With love and gratitude,
Dianne Starr
June 2026