“I’m just worried about what he’ll do when I pass away,” Betty said softly, her voice tinged with concern. “What if someone takes advantage of him?”
“Don’t worry,” Cheri said gently. “I’ll be here to make sure he’s okay.”
Charles is the sixth and last foster child Betty has raised. He’d suffered a serious fall down the stairs at his previous foster home, leaving him with a lasting disability. But things have started looking up since he began working at a garage in Greeley. The job, combined with his Social Security income, gives him a sense of independence and purpose that had been missing.
Cheri has been the family’s case manager at Catholic Charites in Greeley for years. She first met Betty through the agency’s Older Adult Case Management program, which helps seniors maintain their independence and remain in their homes for as long as possible. Case managers like Cheri work one-on-one with clients to navigate paperwork, access benefits and connect with essential community resources—everything from food assistance and transportation to healthcare and in-home support services. The goal is simple yet powerful: to reduce barriers, promote stability and ensure that older adults can age safely and with dignity in their own homes.
For Betty, the program has been a lifeline; Cheri helped her get a new refrigerator when hers broke down, arranged for a safer shower after Betty’s balance began to decline and coordinated repairs for the front stairs. But perhaps the greatest support came when Cheri helped her enroll in InnovAge, a program that offers daytime enrichment and social interaction. This program gives Betty a reason to get out of the house every week.
Cheri wasn’t just doing her job—she had become a part of the family’s story. That’s the heart of Catholic Charities’ mission: walking with people in their most vulnerable moments and offering the resources, dignity and compassion they need to thrive.
Over time, Cheri has helped Betty not only with the day-to-day support she needs to stay in her home, but also with planning for the future—especially in thinking about what will happen to Charles as Betty’s medical issues progress. Together, they have worked to ensure that Charles will continue to have support through disability services, his job at the garage and a network of community partners no matter what happens to Betty. Cheri arranged a supported decision-making plan, so that Charles won’t be left navigating life on his own. The reassurance of knowing someone will continue to look after him has given Betty peace of mind, even as her memory continues to slip.
Cheri has walked through so much with this family and is now walking with Betty through the painful uncertainty of dementia. She has become a trusted anchor for both of them.
As she stepped off the porch after a recent visit, Cheri glanced back one more time. Betty was sitting quietly in her chair, staring into the trees. Moments earlier, she had been lucid—clear, sharp, worried about Charles. But now the fog had returned.
The words Betty meant to say were gone again, lost to the confusion that too often clouds her mind. But Cheri didn’t need to hear them. She understood.
It was the kind of unspoken gratitude that case managers like Cheri encounter every day—proof that even small acts of support can ripple out into a life of safety, meaning and love.