For Heather Lusk, caring for others has been her life’s work.

As Executive Director of the Hawaiʻi Health & Harm Reduction Center (HHHRC) and a licensed clinical social worker, Heather has spent more than 30 years working to reduce stigma and health disparities, particularly for people affected by HIV, substance use, and chronic illness. She has helped people in some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives, including kūpuna and others navigating illness without traditional family support.

But long before she became a leader in her field, Heather was learning what it truly means to care for others from someone who would become one of the most important people in her life. Her name was Robin Ortiz-Young.

As Heather’s mentor, best friend, and chosen family, Robin helped shape Heather not only as an advocate and leader, but as a person — teaching her lessons about compassion, connection, and what it means to simply be there for someone. Over the years, their friendship grew into a bond Heather says was unlike anything she had experienced before.

“She and I had a special spiritual connection,” Heather said. “She was my family.”

A Connection Like No Other

Heather met Robin through the HIV community, where Robin had spent years advocating for people living with HIV during a time when stigma was pervasive and people were dying without the support and compassion they deserved.

Robin became a mentor to Heather, helping her understand not only how to care for people living with HIV, but how to lead with compassion. Together, they trained thousands of people on how to talk about HIV, reduce stigma, and approach others with greater understanding.

“I would not be where I’m sitting without her,” Heather said.

Even after Robin was gone, Heather continues to call on her.

She remembers a saying about calling on the people who have been kind to you. She does exactly that — bringing Robin into the room whenever she is training others, working with people living with HIV, or gathering with her team on World AIDS Day.

“She lifted me up and helped me become a leader because of her compassion and love and her commitment to HIV,” she said.

That sense of connection was not limited to the two of them. Robin believed deeply in the power of the people we choose to call family.

Hānai Family: The Power to Choose

Robin had always believed in the power of chosen and extended family, especially within the HIV community. She advocated for people in the hospital when they were dying, making sure the people they loved had the chance to say goodbye.

When Robin became ill herself, that same community surrounded her.

More than 300 people wanted to help. Heather became the point person who connected Robin’s family and her wider community — coordinating communication, meals, and support so Robin and her family did not have to carry that burden.

It was the kind of family Robin believed in, one built through love, connection, and the choice to care for one another.

That bond became even more meaningful as Robin approached the end of life. And it was then that a lesson Robin had shared with Heather long before her diagnosis took on a new meaning.

The Greatest Gift

Robin had once told Heather that the greatest gift anyone can give another person is to be there at the end of life. She said it before she even knew she would one day need it herself.

So when Robin was diagnosed with cancer, Heather knew she had to be there.

As Robin’s illness progressed, she eventually asked Heather to become the liaison between her family and the hundreds of people who wanted to support her. Heather helped coordinate communication and support, but her role went far beyond logistics. She was there for the quiet moments, the difficult conversations, and the final days.

One moment that stays with her was when Robin decided she no longer wanted outside visitors. After spending so much of her illness putting on a brave face and entertaining the people who came by, she chose to spend her remaining time with those closest to her.

Another moment came when Robin’s daughter told her that it was okay to let go.

“To be a part of that experience,” Heather said, “what a blessing.”

That experience also deepened Heather’s understanding of hospice and grief. Being present at the end of someone’s life is not simply about witnessing loss. It can be about making space for love, family, connection, and the people who matter most.

Being present was not about doing everything or finding the perfect thing to say. It was about understanding what Robin needed, without having her say it.

The Platinum Rule

We’ve all heard of the Golden Rule — treat others the way you would want to be treated — but Robin believed in what she called the Platinum Rule: treat people the way they want to be treated.

That gave Heather a different way to think about compassion.

“The biggest thing I learned is people want connection, but they don’t want to have to dictate what that is,” Heather said. “So instead of asking, ‘What do you need? What can I do?’ Just show up. Just do it. Don’t put the burden on the person who’s suffering or their family to ask them what they need. Just be there.”

And when you’re there, she said, you’ll see.

Even though there were times when Heather was afraid and had to witness Robin’s suffering, looking back, she wouldn’t change a thing.

“I would never give back that opportunity,” Heather said. “We had an intimacy that I didn’t expect.”

That intimacy became one of the most unexpected gifts of their friendship.

Don’t Fix, Just Stay

Heather expected those final years with Robin to be difficult. What she didn’t expect was how much she would receive in return.

“There was a calmness and a connectedness and an intimacy that made it worth all the hard parts of seeing the suffering and being there for it,” she said.

Being there for Robin changed the way Heather understands care today. It taught her that compassion isn’t always about knowing what to say, fixing what hurts, or having the right answer. Sometimes, it means entering someone’s hardest moments without turning away.

Sitting beside them. Listening. Witnessing. Letting them be exactly where they are.

Heather didn’t just accompany Robin through the end of her life. She was changed by being there.

And perhaps that is what Robin gave her most: the understanding that love does not always ask us to do more.

Sometimes, it just asks us to stay.