Stories of Care, Connection and Compassion

Margaret was 67. She lived near Waiuku with her husband Bob… and their dog, Ginger.

Margaret had Parkinson’s disease, and as her condition progressed, Bob became not only her husband, but also her carer, her support person, and often the person holding everything together.

When we first met them, Margaret told us very clearly what mattered most: she wanted to stay at home, with Bob and Ginger, for as long as possible.

So that became our goal.

Our team stepped in around them — not just medically, but emotionally and practically too.

Margaret began attending our Daybreak programme each week for companionship, activities, and connection… while Bob had a chance to breathe, do the groceries, or simply have a moment to himself.

One of our biography volunteers helped Margaret record her life story for her whānau — preserving memories and stories that may otherwise have been lost.

Our staff and volunteers became part of everyday life.

They would sit with Margaret, share a cup of tea, read to her… while Bob stepped out for a moment.

One volunteer chopped firewood.

Another walked Ginger.

Simple things. Human things. Things that mattered deeply.

At the same time, our social support team gently helped Bob prepare for what was ahead.

Practical things — passwords, paperwork, meals, bank accounts.

And emotional support too — counselling, support groups, someone to talk to.

Not overwhelming him. Just walking alongside him.

As Margaret became more unwell, our nurses increased their support, helping manage symptoms and keeping her comfortable at home.

Then one night at 2am, Bob became frightened and unsure what was happening.

So he called us. And someone answered.

Not a machine.
Not an answering service.
Us.

We talked him through it.

We reassured him.

We stayed beside him.

A few days later, Margaret’s condition changed again.

Bob and Ginger climbed into bed beside her and held her as she passed away, looking out over the garden she loved.

And our care didn’t stop there.

We helped Bob navigate the next steps.

We supported him through grief counselling.

We continued walking alongside him.

Hospice care is about helping people live as well as possible, for as long as possible. It’s about dignity. It’s about whānau. It’s about making sure nobody faces these moments alone.

When an older gentleman was referred to Franklin Community Hospice, there wasn't one simple problem to solve.

He was becoming increasingly frail and was living with dementia, diabetes and significant pain. Repeated hospital admissions had taken their toll.

He had lost much of his independence and was struggling emotionally.

At home, his wife was struggling too.

She was trying to manage his increasingly complex care, his medications, his diabetes and the changes she was seeing in the man she loved.

They didn't need one service. They needed someone to look at the whole picture.

That is where hospice came in.

Our nursing team visited them at home and assessed what they both needed.

We worked alongside his GP to help manage his pain. We connected the family with specialist diabetes support so his wife had help managing his insulin and diabetes at home.

We coordinated equipment and practical support to make caring for him safer and more manageable. Additional personal care was arranged.

And because serious illness affects far more than someone's physical health, his wife was connected with counselling and support, while additional help was sought for his emotional wellbeing.

Different services. Different professionals. One person and one family at the centre of it all.

With those supports wrapped around them, he was able to remain stable at home.

This is an important part of specialist palliative care. People living with life-limiting illness often have complex needs that cross many parts of the health and social care system.

Families can suddenly find themselves trying to navigate services they have never encountered before, at exactly the time they have the least capacity to do it.

Hospice helps bring those pieces together.

We work alongside GPs, hospitals, community services and other health professionals.

And through all of it, we keep asking the same question: What does this person and their whānau need to live as well as possible, in the place that matters to them?