Banking on Kindness
My dad took me to open my first bank account at CIBC when I was ten years old. I'm almost forty now, and I still bank with them. In fact, I'm emotionally attached to that account.
My dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's in late 2025. Caring for him has become one of the most consuming parts of my life, and one of the most humbling. I spend a lot of time trying to make things structured, predictable, and as worry-free for him as possible. Little outings, routines, systems that are supposed to be as simple and seamless as possible.
I had organized a small outing for him with his caregiver, and was in a meeting when my phone started lighting up. Texts and calls from my dad, and from his caregiver. He was at the bank, confused, thinking the ATM hadn’t dispensed his money, and now saying he had withdrawn his limit for the day. What had happened: he had taken his card and walked away before the cash dispensed.
His outing fell apart, and he went home disappointed. I sat in my meeting trying to hold it together, knowing I'd have to go sort it out, feeling that particular kind of helpless frustration that comes with caregiving. When you’ve tried so hard to make everything okay and something inevitable still slips through.
I went to the branch not expecting much. Instead, I sat down with the branch manager who listened without rushing, didn't make assumptions, and never once made me feel like I needed to explain or justify my dad's situation. He said this happens more often than people think, and that he'd look into it. He said he’d even have the machine balanced to rule out an error on their end. A little while later he called: someone had turned the money in. A kind stranger had seen it and done the right thing, which already felt like more than I could have hoped for that day.
But what stayed with me was the conversation itself. He took the time to sit with me, he acknowledged what it takes to care for a parent, and he treated my dad and I with dignity and warmth. Money’s been tight since I shifted so much of my focus to caregiving. These moments also remind me, in ways that are hard to articulate, of how vulnerable my dad has become. It's hard to watch someone you love changing, and it’s a lot to carry.
Thirty years after my dad walked me into a CIBC to open my very first account, a kind manager at the same institution showed up for both of us when it mattered most, and it didn’t go unnoticed.
I write about client experience professionally - the gaps, the missed moments, the small things that determine whether someone feels valued or invisible. But days like that one reminded me that it's never really about business. It's about people. It’s about a bank manager who took twenty minutes to sit with a tired caregiver and treat her with kindness.
I was reminded me why any of this matters in the first place. The way we show up for people in business and in life leaves a mark.
