Chapter 7: I Will Always Love You
By the mid-2000s, the case against Donald had already taken a heavy toll. Legal bills mounted, his health declined, and Joyce, his wife of more than fifty years, had entered a care home as dementia slowly eroded her independence. She was no longer capable of managing her own affairs.
That should have been the point where the system stepped back, recognizing that any pursuit of damages would harm not only Donald but also an incapacitated elderly woman who had no involvement in the lawsuit. Instead, the government moved in for the kill.
Bank accounts in Joyce’s name, the savings meant to cover her care, her comfort, and her dignity in her final years, were targeted for garnishment. She had never been a party to the legal action. She had not stood in court, signed an affidavit, or made a claim. Yet the machinery of Alberta’s justice system treated her life savings as collateral to squeeze a judgment from her husband.
The garnishment order swept through without compassion, without accommodation for her medical needs, and without apparent consideration of her vulnerability. The timing was particularly cruel. Dementia had left Joyce unable to advocate for herself, and Donald, already burdened by his own health struggles and the weight of defending himself, was now forced to fight for her as well.
It was the kind of maneuver that makes people wonder not just what the law allows, but who it serves. On paper, it was a legal enforcement of a judgment. In reality, it was the state extracting money from a sick, elderly woman who could not comprehend, let alone challenge, the process.
For the Broder family, this was more than another procedural blow. It was a moral outrage. The garnishment of Joyce’s funds became a symbol of everything they believed had gone wrong, a justice system that had abandoned fairness, humanity, and basic decency in its pursuit of procedural victory.
In the end, Joyce would never return home. She passed away in September 2011, never knowing the outcome of the long legal battle. But the memory of what was taken from her, both in freedom and in financial security, remains one of the most bitter chapters in the Broder case.