We often think of health advocacy as something that happens in a medical setting. We picture doctor appointments, treatment decisions, hospital stays, insurance questions, and conversations with healthcare professionals.
But advocacy begins somewhere deeper. It begins with recognizing that every living being has a voice, even when that voice is expressed without words. It means paying attention, honoring preferences, and staying present when the path ahead is difficult.
I learned that lesson in a profound way earlier this year while accompanying my cat through the end of his life.
The experience was painful, and the process took longer than I expected—and certainly longer than I wanted it to. Yet it also taught me lessons that extend far beyond caring for an animal. They apply to how we support aging parents, spouses, friends, and anyone facing serious illness or the end of life.
Advocacy Begins With Listening
Everyone wants their wishes to be known, heard, and followed.
A cat cannot complete an advance directive or explain quality-of-life priorities. Yet anyone who has loved an animal knows that pets communicate. They tell us when they want company and when they need space. They show us what brings comfort, what causes distress, and when something has changed.
Our responsibility is to pay attention.
Human health advocacy rests on the same principle. A person’s values, goals, and preferences should guide decisions about care. Advocacy is not taking over someone else’s choices. It is helping ensure that the person remains at the center of those choices.
This becomes especially important near the end of life, when fear, urgency, and strong emotions can make it tempting to choose the fastest or easiest path. Sometimes we want to rush the process because watching someone decline is so difficult. Sometimes we simply want the uncertainty to end.
But love asks us to resist shortcuts made primarily for our own relief. It asks us to slow down, gather information, observe carefully, and consider what the person or pet we love would want.
Do Not Rush the Process
The end often takes longer than we think it will—and longer than we want it to.
Waiting can be exhausting. We may question whether we are doing too much, too little, or the wrong thing entirely. There may not be one perfect answer. Advocacy often means staying engaged even when the next step is unclear.
During this time, we may also be tempted to focus only on the final outcome. Yet if we remain observant, we can find blessings along the way.
Even during decline, glimpses of a loved one’s true personality can shine through. A familiar expression, a moment of humor, a response to a favorite song, or a quiet look of recognition can remind us that the person we love is still present.
Those moments matter. Later, they may become the memories that sustain us in our grief.
Presence Is a Powerful Form of Care
One of the most important lessons I learned was also one of the simplest: show up and be present.
When we cannot cure an illness, reverse a decline, or change the outcome, we may feel helpless. We worry that we will not know what to do or have the right words to say.
But perfect words are rarely what people or pets need most.
They need our presence, time, and attention. They need someone willing to sit beside them, listen without rushing, and remain close when the situation is uncomfortable.
Presence communicates something words cannot always express: You matter. You are not alone. I am still here.
People facing illness or increasing dependence may worry that they have become a burden. They may apologize for needing help or hesitate to ask for what they need. Yet we are never burdens to those who truly love us. Caregiving can be tiring and complicated, but needing care does not diminish anyone’s worth.
The experience also reminded me that loved ones are not always blood relatives. Family may include close friends, neighbors, caregivers, members of a faith community, or others who choose to stand beside us. What makes someone family is not only a shared name. It is the willingness to show up.
Go the Extra Mile
Advocacy may require us to go the extra mile when doing so is inconvenient, difficult, or emotionally draining. We may not immediately see the value of making another phone call, asking another question, seeking another opinion, or spending another quiet hour at someone’s side.
Do it anyway.
Others often recognize and appreciate these efforts even when we cannot see their impact. More importantly, the person receiving care may experience greater dignity, comfort, and peace because someone was willing to keep trying.
Advocacy is rarely one dramatic act. More often, it is a series of small decisions to listen, notice, ask, clarify, and remain present.
Make Room for Grief, Grace, and Forgiveness
Grief does not follow an orderly schedule. It can begin long before a death, particularly when we are watching someone we love gradually decline. This is called anticipatory grief—the sorrow and emotional adjustment that can occur before an expected loss.
Grief can appear as sadness, anger, fatigue, anxiety, guilt, relief, forgetfulness, or even numbness. There is no single correct response.
It is OK not to be OK.
Grace and forgiveness also become important during this time. Serious illness and loss can bring old disagreements and unresolved wounds to the surface. Family members may have different beliefs about care, responsibility, or what should happen next.
We may need to extend grace to others who are doing the best they can. We may need to forgive ourselves for not handling every moment perfectly. Peace does not require pretending the past never happened. It may begin by choosing not to let the past take away the time we still have.
The present is a gift we give to those we love.
Have End-of-Life Conversations Before a Crisis
We all die. Every person and every living thing will eventually reach the end of life. My faith tells me this will remain true until Christ returns and calls us home to Heaven.
Talking about death does not make it happen sooner. Silence does not protect us from it.
We should not be afraid to have difficult conversations early. A loved one may be waiting for permission to talk about fears, hopes, spiritual beliefs, unfinished business, or what matters most if health declines.
Ask questions. Then listen.
You might begin with:
- “What would be most important to you if your health changed?”
- “What would make life worth living for you?”
- “Who would you trust to speak for you?”
- “Are there treatments you would or would not want?”
- “What would help you feel safe, comfortable, and respected?”
For more help, explore these tools for beginning end-of-life conversations.
Advance care planning means thinking about and communicating future healthcare preferences before a crisis makes those decisions urgent. It is not one conversation or one form. It is an ongoing process that helps families replace guessing with understanding.
A Simple First Step
My cat could not use words to tell me everything, but the experience taught me to observe more carefully, listen more deeply, and remain present through uncertainty. Those are also the foundations of meaningful health advocacy.
This week, begin one conversation with someone you love. Ask what matters most to them. Share what matters most to you. You do not have to settle every question in one sitting. You simply need to begin the conversation.
Listen carefully. Show up. Honor the voice in front of you.
That is advocacy at its most human.