Dear Friends of Hospice,
This fall, we’re raising $150,000 to help Celia’s House say yes to every family who needs us, and we’re just about $8,000 away from our goal. Will you give today? Give Now
Here is why gifts like yours matter, in the story of Dr. John Forsyth.
Dr. John Forsyth began practicing cardiology in the Rogue Valley in 1970. Over the years, he saw too many families reach the end of life without the care they needed, in his practice and with his own parents.
So when a group of friends and colleagues began dreaming of a hospice house around 2008, John was an easy recruit. It was the people and the need that drew him in. Their ideas seemed audacious. A fundraising consultant told them they were crazy. John remembers it as magical, and he feels privileged to have been part of it. Celia’s House opened in May 2018.
John volunteered at Celia’s House until 2025 and helped develop the training for our volunteers. At the bedside, he learned how much the little things matter.
The rooms had big, comfortable chairs, but they sat far from the bed. John and his wife, Lynne, gave folding chairs, one for each of the 12 resident rooms, so loved ones and volunteers could sit close. It turned out not to be enough, so they gave more the next year. John knew that people on hospice often can no longer speak, but touch still tells them they are loved. Music can reach them too, so John and Lynne also gave Alexa devices that let each resident listen to whatever they love.
Folding chairs remain the gift John finds most meaningful. He learned why before Celia’s House even opened, when dear friends of his, married for 77 years, found themselves in a hospital room at dawn.
The couple were 98 and 99 years old, and the wife did not want to be resuscitated. John helped her husband get close to her bedside. A social worker brought folding chairs so he could hold her hand for the last three hours of her life. He thanked the social worker, saying those were the most lovely three hours of their 77 years together.
A gift of any size helps us keep doing the small things, like a chair pulled close.
What matters most is different for every person, and Celia’s House asks. John remembers a resident, a former math teacher, who could no longer speak and could only wiggle one finger. Staff found a letter board for her. When John asked what meant the most to her, she spelled out “quad equa.” “Quadratic equations?” he asked, and she smiled. From then on, John brought her equations to solve. She often had the answer in 30 seconds, faster than the calculator of a visiting math instructor, and she smiled each time she got one right until the day before she died.
John says every little bit helps, particularly when it comes with a story. He calls himself a “pragmatic old guy,” and he gives that way: one chair, one song, one specific difference at a time.
This fall, we’re asking you to give the way John does. Our community has raised $142,500 toward our $150,000 goal, and the campaign closes Oct. 31. Whatever the size of your gift, it helps Celia’s House do the small things that matter most to someone at the end of life: a chair pulled close, a favorite song, a quadratic equation.
Thank you for being part of this.
With gratitude,
Kelly J. Gonzales
Development Director
Southern Oregon Friends of Hospice