Stephen’s Final Farewell

In the late hours of Friday, September 10th 2021, my husband, Stephen ‘Steveo’ Bruce Westfall unexpectedly passed away.

 

He was a gentle soul. He always tried to make others laugh - which for him - wasn’t very difficult to do. Stephen grew up in Toronto with his older brother and became a friend to everyone who met him. The way he built connections with complete strangers was jaw-dropping. I don’t know how he did it.

 

Like everyone else, Stephen had demons to face and his struggle was neither short or easy. On August 14th 2021, Stephen was transported to the ICU at South Health Campus in Calgary, Alberta, where his mother and I watched him fight for his life on a ventilator for 10 excruciating days.

 

If you knew Stephen, you knew how much fight he had in him. He made a very quick recovery once he was disconnected from life support and advocated for himself non-stop as he wanted a future full of sobriety and happiness. He was granted a second chance at life and he planned on making the most of it. Together we fought tirelessly against social workers, nurses, doctors and addiction counsellors that did not want to give him five minutes of their time. I held my husband in my arms every single day and listened to him cry for help because he did not want to go back to his old habits. He needed support and encouragement but was overlooked due to the stigma surrounding addiction. He cried to anybody who would listen and begged them to help him get into a treatment centre. He filled out applications for every single centre in the province. He begged and pleaded for some sort of guidance, for somebody to extend a helping hand but not a single one was offered.

 

The system failed my husband. Treatment centres have a minimum one month wait in Alberta (unless you pay for privatized treatment ranging from $500-$1200 a day) and no programming or out-patient services are offered during this time. “There’s nothing we can do. Just get your methadone every day and hopefully a bed opens up”. That was it. That was all the nurses could say. They looked at an addict who was begging for help and tossed him to the street to give a bed to someone who ‘needed it more’.

 

He had no life skills, no tips or tricks to help him remain sober. He was terrified of relapsing. Addiction is a disease, it’s an uphill battle, and it’s not a battle that is usually won without supports set in place. As strong as he was, we live in a city so overrun by drugs that all you have to do is walk out your front door and three people already have opiods in your face. Not many people stand a chance in a situation like his.

 

He wasn’t a ‘junkie’, a ‘crackhead’ or a nuisance. He was a human being. He was a brother, father, son, friend and husband. He put up one hell of a fight the last while.

 

Despite discouraging events, Stephen did what he could. He attended methadone apppintments daily, he cut out fentanyl completely and he was blossoming into the best version of himself. It was incredible. I have never witnessed someone fight so hard to better themselves, even after 9 years of working in social services with hundreds of clients coming my way.

 

Stephen just turned thirty-three years old in July. He was only 33. He leaves behind his wife, an 11-year old son who loves him to pieces, his parents, his brother and so many people who were rooting for him. He tried his hardest to overcome addiction but time was not on his side.

 

We are left with these gigantic holes in our hearts as well as the financial burden that comes with end of life plans.

 

Stephen was receiving Alberta Works, therefore he does not qualify for the governments financial assistance programs that would help his family and I cover the costs of his cremation and all that comes with it. I, myself, am in the middle of switching jobs and have just gone back to work after unpaid mental health leave due to the trauma of Stephen being on life support.

 

I know that a lot of you reading this didn’t have the opportunity to meet Stephen, but as his wife and his best friend, I want you to know that he was a very generous person. He wasn’t a no-good addict, he had plans and goals. He took his shoes off in the dead of winter to give them to another homeless individual who did not have any and walked to a shelter in his socks. He has literally given the shirt off of his back to someone in need. He was a very bright light in a world full of darkness and he of all people deserves to depart this world with dignity and respect.

 

I am never one to ask for financial assistance, I didn’t think that I would ever have to, especially like this.

My husbands body, mind and soul deserve to rest and finally be at peace and that’s all I want to give him as a final goodbye.

 

The cost of Stephen’s cremation (and all that comes with it) will total around $4,000 - $5,000 after tax. I do not have savings, I’m up to my neck in student loans and I cannot get a credit card. Because I do not have any options available to me, I am asking my friends and family for support during this very difficult time in hopes that my past generosity is reciprocated. $3 or $5, any donation amount is appreciated more than one can fathom and means the absolute world to me.

 

Please help me lay my baby to rest,

and from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

 

- Montana