Brandy's Story

Brandy and her mom Darla were more than mother and daughter—they were a team. From sports games and puzzle nights to long talks and everyday errands, they were side by side for everything.

“I was her only child, and she was my person,” Brandy says. “We did everything together.”

Darla had a deep love for Cleveland sports and the Buckeyes, but her greatest joy was caring for those she loved. When she married Brandy’s dad, she chose to stay home to raise their daughter. Later in life, she returned that same care to her own parents, stepping into the role of caregiver without hesitation. It was simply who she was—someone who showed up for the people she loved, no matter what.

Even as Brandy grew up and started a family of her own, Darla remained a constant presence. She had just stepped into the role of grandmother—a title she was thrilled to carry—when the unthinkable happened.

Darla had been checking in, asking for her daily Ryker update. The next day, Brandy’s dad noticed something wasn’t right. Brandy knew instantly—her mom was having a stroke. The last words Darla could say were, “I’m sorry.” Even in that moment, her instinct was to protect and comfort her daughter.

After an emergency medical flight from Geneva to downtown Cleveland and learning that the treatment window had passed, the family faced impossible choices. Darla was moved to a hospital room, but it didn’t feel right. “She was uncomfortable. I didn’t want that to be her final place,” Brandy says.

When a caseworker suggested hospice, Brandy didn’t hesitate. “I said yes right away.” Within hours, Darla was on her way to David Simpson Hospice House.

The moment they arrived, everything changed.

Gone was the fear and uncertainty that had followed them through the hospital halls. In its place was warmth, calm and care.

“We were greeted with hugs,” Brandy says. “The room felt like home. I brought flowers and a picture. She was only there a week, but it gave me peace of mind.”

Staff kept Darla comfortable, and Brandy was able to focus on being present. “It wasn’t cold or clinical. It felt like we had time. We weren’t rushed. Even after she passed, they told us to take all the time we needed.”

The smallest kindnesses made the biggest difference—the prayer blanket that covered Darla during her stay now hangs framed in Ryker’s room. It’s a daily reminder of the love that surrounded Darla in her final days—and of the care that continues to embrace their

family even now. The visitors who stopped by to offer comfort. The freedom to stay until it truly felt like the right time to go.

“It’s been a whole new adjustment doing life without her,” Brandy says. “But knowing she was cared for the way she deserved—it means everything to me.”