My name is Erik, and I live in San Diego with my aunt, Ellen. For nearly 20 years we’ve shared our small home in Clairemont—working hard, talking cars and design, fixing things around the house, and spending our evenings watching movies together. We’ve weathered a lot side-by-side, but nothing prepared us for the call she received in 2022: Stage 4 colon cancer.
Overnight, our routines were replaced with hospitals, scans, and the kind of fears you feel deep in your stomach. But through all of it, Ellen never lost her strength or her kindness. She stayed positive, steady, and unmistakably herself.
Against every expectation, Ellen is still fighting four years later. But this year brought another blow: a diagnosis of mild dementia, possibly Alzheimer’s. Some days are still full of laughter and clarity; others are frightening and disorienting. Through it all, she has one heartfelt request—to stay in the home she loves. She’s said it more than once, with fear in her voice: “Please don’t send me to one of those places.”
And that's why I’m here, reaching out. My mother (Ellen’s sister, Kay) and I have applied to every program available, but even with assistance, we cannot keep up. The cost of in-home care, safety equipment, medications, groceries, and basic living expenses has pushed us past the edge.
Ellen has always been the person you can count on—humble, gentle, quick to smile, a talented artist, a protector of animals, and the one who will show up for you at 2 a.m. without hesitation. She has spent her life giving to others. Now, we’re asking for help giving something back.
Your donation will go directly toward keeping Ellen safely at home: nurse visits, caregiver hours, medical supplies, home modifications, and the essentials that allow her to stay in familiar surroundings with dignity and comfort. Every contribution, every share, every gesture truly helps. You’re not just easing a financial burden—you’re helping fulfill her deepest wish at a time when she needs stability more than ever.
From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for reading, for caring, and for being part of Ellen’s story.
With love, Erik (and Kay)
Overnight, our routines were replaced with hospitals, scans, and the kind of fears you feel deep in your stomach. But through all of it, Ellen never lost her strength or her kindness. She stayed positive, steady, and unmistakably herself.
Against every expectation, Ellen is still fighting four years later. But this year brought another blow: a diagnosis of mild dementia, possibly Alzheimer’s. Some days are still full of laughter and clarity; others are frightening and disorienting. Through it all, she has one heartfelt request—to stay in the home she loves. She’s said it more than once, with fear in her voice: “Please don’t send me to one of those places.”
And that's why I’m here, reaching out. My mother (Ellen’s sister, Kay) and I have applied to every program available, but even with assistance, we cannot keep up. The cost of in-home care, safety equipment, medications, groceries, and basic living expenses has pushed us past the edge.
Ellen has always been the person you can count on—humble, gentle, quick to smile, a talented artist, a protector of animals, and the one who will show up for you at 2 a.m. without hesitation. She has spent her life giving to others. Now, we’re asking for help giving something back.
Your donation will go directly toward keeping Ellen safely at home: nurse visits, caregiver hours, medical supplies, home modifications, and the essentials that allow her to stay in familiar surroundings with dignity and comfort. Every contribution, every share, every gesture truly helps. You’re not just easing a financial burden—you’re helping fulfill her deepest wish at a time when she needs stability more than ever.
From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for reading, for caring, and for being part of Ellen’s story.
With love, Erik (and Kay)





