My name is John Victor, a devoted caregiver, and for the past three years, I’ve been caring for my father at home. I made the difficult decision to quit my job so I could provide him with full-time care, right up until he passed away just before Christmas in 2024. Since then, the only comfort I find amidst the weight of my mental health struggles and anxiety is in honouring his memory and continuing to keep our home going.

Investing my time in care taking meant sacrificing my job - a conscious choice to prioritize family, love, and duty over money. However, it's lead to an impending eviction from our family home of 23 years. A home that is more than just brick and mortar, it’s where my father lived his last days. The anxiety of eviction is overwhelming and the thought of being forced out is terrifying.

Homelessness and eviction among caregivers in the aftermath of a loved one's death is far from a personal issue. The issue is systemic: surveys estimate that about 45% of caregivers experience financial hardship due to their caregiving responsibilities (National Alliance for Caregiving and AARP).

What happens when the caregiver needs care? Who stands up for them when they're too overwhelmed to stand for themselves? It's time for us to do so. This petition calls for a halt to the eviction process and a review of my situation. It also calls for broader reform to protect caregivers from falling into the cracks when they're most vulnerable.

Please, sign and share this petition. Your support could provide not only much needed relief, but can also inspire wider change. Stand with caregivers everywhere, and say that they, too, deserve care. Sign this petition. Stand up against caregiver eviction.

Today, I sift through Dad’s clothes, pulling them on as I wander through the house, each step heavy with memories. Some pieces I fold carefully, setting them aside for charity, but with each fold, the weight of the past presses on me. I remember the laughter, the warmth, the love—yet as the night falls, the darkness creeps in. The nightmares return, relentless and unforgiving. Tomorrow looms ahead, a heavy shadow, and I know it won’t be an easy day. But maybe, just maybe, it’ll be a little better than today.