Ernie's Warriors – A Story of Love, Loss, and the Fight for Caregivers

Hey everyone! My name is Kristy Hahn, and I am the founder of Ernie’s Warriors. I wanted to share my story. A story that led to the creation of Ernie’s Warriors.

Before caregiving, my husband and I lived a simple life. No major responsibilities, no children, just the freedom to move between Arizona and Wisconsin. But that all changed when dementia entered our family’s life—first with my husband’s grandmother, and then with his father, Ernie.

At first, we didn’t realize how hard things had become. My husband’s mother, Irene, was doing everything—being both a wife and a full-time caregiver. From a distance, we didn’t see the toll it was taking on her. But when she finally asked for help, we did what we had always done—we dropped everything. We sold our belongings, left our jobs, packed up our car, and moved to Arizona. We thought we were coming to help, but what we didn’t expect was for Ernie to look at us and say: “I don’t know who you are. I don’t want them here.”

Heartbroken, we left. To start over—again. But the calls from Irene kept coming. She needed us. So again, we left everything behind and drove back. Each time, we found ourselves in the middle of confusion, arguments, and the relentless reality of a disease none of us truly understood. To only end up having to leave again.

Then, we got the call that changed everything. Irene told us that Ernie hadn’t eaten in five days, and we feared we were about to lose him. We packed up once more, drove through brutal winter weather to get there—only to face an unimaginable loss. Five days after we arrived, it wasn’t Ernie we lost. It was Irene. She passed away at home, and Rusty—my husband—was the one who found her.

That moment changed everything. The grief, the shock—it was all-consuming. We had come thinking we were there to help, but nothing could have prepared us for what we walked into. Suddenly, we weren’t just grieving—we were full-time caregivers.

We were unprepared. Isolated. Financially drained. Desperate for support.

But we committed our lives to Ernie’s care. Rusty became the sole provider while I took care of Ernie 24/7. I tried working as a night shift waitress, but Ernie needed me too much. I couldn’t leave him alone, so I quit.

For two years, I cared for Ernie every single day. Two years of exhaustion. Two years of watching the world move on while I was trapped in the cycle of caregiving. Two years of hoping, praying, and pushing forward, even when I felt like I had nothing left to give.

There were days I was angry—angry at the system that failed us, angry at family members who never called or came. Days when the isolation was unbearable, when the silence in the house felt louder than the chaos of caregiving itself.

Guilt crept in constantly. Was I doing enough? Could I have done more? The sadness, the frustration, the helplessness, the loneliness—it was overwhelming. But through it all, hope was my anchor. Hope was all I ever counted on. Hope is what got me through.

If it weren’t for the online support I had—friends who checked in, who understood, who reminded me I wasn’t alone—I don’t know what I would have done. No one comes to visit. No one checks in. They go on living their lives while you feel like yours is slipping away.

But those friends? They were my lifeline. They reminded me that I wasn’t invisible. That I mattered, too. That caregivers matter.

And that’s why Ernie’s Warriors exists.

Because no caregiver should have to do this alone. Because no one should have to choose between caring for a loved one and keeping their own life afloat. Because the people who dedicate their lives to others deserve to be seen, supported, and valued.

This isn’t just my story—it’s the story of countless caregivers and family members who struggle in silence every single day. And this is where you come in.

I urge you—educate yourself. Prepare your family. Be an advocate.

Because one day, this may not just be my story. It could be yours.

I created this nonprofit for the warriors out there who are living that life right now. The ones holding it all together when it feels like everything is falling apart. The ones putting someone else’s needs ahead of their own every single day. The ones who don’t always get a thank you, a break, or even recognition that what they’re doing is heroic.

Ernie’s Warriors is for them.
We are still small — just getting started — but our dreams are big.

We want to offer support groups that don’t just provide education and resources, but also moments of joy.
We want to offer respite care so caregivers can breathe again.
We want to help families afford memory care, assisted living, and vital services they desperately need.
And eventually, we want to build spaces that feel like home — a place filled with dignity, love, and care.

But we can’t do it without help.

Thank you for believing in us. Thank you for helping us honor Ernie’s legacy by building something that will help so many others.

We’re just getting started — and with your support, we can do something truly life-changing.