In September 2023, Suzanne and her daughter Holly lost Bob, their beloved husband and stepfather, after a 14-month battle with bowel cancer that had spread to his liver. While the initial prognosis had given Bob only six months, palliative chemotherapy, other treatments and the tireless care of St Margaret’s Community Nursing team allowed him to live another eight months. This precious time together, though filled with challenges, was also filled with love, laughter, and the compassionate support that made all the difference.
As Suzanne recalls, the hospice care provided by St Margaret’s initially filled her with dread. “I associated the word ‘hospice’ with illness, sadness, and death,” she admits. When the community nurse first came to their home, Suzanne’s heart was filled with fear. “I went into an absolute tailspin, and I remember the day that I opened the door to her, and she said, ‘who were you expecting, the Grim Reaper?’ and she simply couldn’t have been further from it. This wonderful woman came in, she immediately took a huge weight off our shoulders and was to become an instrumental part of making an extremely hard journey easier to bear”.
That “wonderful woman” was Angie, a nurse from St Margaret’s, who, along with the rest of the hospice team, provided not just medical care for Bob, but emotional support for the whole family. “With St Margaret’s, I could pick up the phone, and somebody would answer,” Suzanne explains. “Not only would they answer, but they would act. And once Bob died, they didn’t just disappear. They continued to be empathetic when everyone else moved on. They understood we were still grieving.”
Holly, too, felt the comforting presence of St Margaret’s after Bob’s passing. “I thought, now we’ve been abandoned. But with St Margaret’s, it simply wasn’t like that. I have bereavement counselling—I still have it now. I thought maybe I didn’t need it, but St Margaret’s, being experts at this, knew I did.”
One of the hardest parts of Bob’s illness was witnessing his physical decline. Suzanne recalls, “I just got to point where I was too afraid to touch him, I thought I’d hurt him. So, she said ‘I’ll show you how to do some light hand massages for Bob’. It was things like that which I hadn’t really thought of”.
Angie told us about all the complementary services the Complimentary therapies team offer at hospice like reflexology and reiki, and not just for the patients, they seemed to understand what families were going through too and how they need support and relief. “In fact, often the sessions started with counselling and tears first before we even got to the therapy. Bob was very cynical, but after he’d tried some reiki “Oh my god, he loved it! He absolutely loved it. It was really helpful”.
She also asked, ‘Have you had THE discussion...?’ I was like oh no, no, no, no, no.” But Angie really made Suzanne think. “What did Bob want? What did I want? ‘You might get to the point when you can’t have that discussion’. Bob and I were able to have these conversations which we couldn't have had with anyone else, these people exist just to make things less scary”.
“Angie encouraged us to take time out together. We had a couple of holidays to Tenerife as well as Cornwall to make memories in these final months. As Bob’s condition deteriorated, he became fixated on going back to his roots, to Liverpool. He even got out of bed to go. We went in the end, with the reassurance and support from Angie regarding pain relief. She said, “What’s the worst that can happen? It’s going to happen somewhere.”
After Bob died, the support didn’t go away, “it was just a familiar place, everyone was really wonderful, at the worst time in our lives, the most amazing people, just came in to support us knowing, with their expertise, exactly what it would be that we would need. I don’t think it’s a job for them, it’s a kind of calling, a lot of really special people work there”.
When New Year’s Day 2024 rolled around—the first without Bob—Suzanne and Holly needed something to pull them out of their grief. Christmas had been unbearably hard, and they desperately wanted a fresh start. That’s when they signed up for St Margaret’s New Year’s Day Dip at Minehead Beach. “We just wanted the year to be over,” Suzanne admits. “But after we signed up, we had a purpose, a reason to celebrate and have fun on January 1st.”
Despite the cold, the experience became a cherished memory. Suzanne, a fan of open water swimming, took the plunge with enthusiasm. Holly, on the other hand, wasn’t as keen. “I got knocked over by a wave on the way in, which wasn’t in the plan,” she laughs. Her boyfriend, George, humorously only managed to dip a toe in before retreating. Yet, it wasn’t just about the swim; it was about being together, finding joy in the midst of grief. “There were hundreds of people on the beach, all these people...and everyone’s happy, no-one's sad and you just know that probably everybody there has lost someone and has some connection with St Margaret’s. In fact, one of Holly’s best friends had lost her mother only a week before.
So even for us, we were a big group but it was fun, you are sad but it’s just about that time of year that people are celebrating, we simply weren’t allowed to be down. It was really fun, people were laughing, it was a happy, happy day.”
“I remember getting into the cold water, it’s not as if you have a choice! Holly said, “My friend and all her family came down. It was like we were all getting back together, it was really special. I’m going to do it again with mum this year.
“I’m convinced that the Bobble hat did make a difference last year so I’m aiming to gather far more than the required £45 for an exclusive woollen hat to help St Margaret’s hit their target of £10,000.”
Holly’s journey through grief took another turn when she decided to run the Amsterdam Marathon in October 2024 in memory of Bob. The date held significant weight, as it fell exactly one year after she and her mum had scattered Bob’s ashes. “The stars had aligned,” Holly said. “I was running that race for a real reason.”
Having previously sworn off running after completing the Bath Half Marathon with no training, Holly dove headfirst into a “Couch to Marathon” program, training for the Amsterdam race in just 10 weeks. She ran alongside a friend who had also lost a parent to cancer, and together, they raised an incredible £3,750 for St Margaret’s.
It wasn’t until I actually got to Amsterdam that I realised how important this marathon was,” Holly explained “People forget, but those types of days—the anniversaries—they’re important. It brought everything home, and that’s what really helped us.
Obviously, we don’t have to do these activities, all the early mornings and training but it takes other people to make it happen too, we struggled with our fundraising to start with and then we set an amount to raise before the end of September. Once we had a good amount on our fundraising page it just took off and we doubled our money on marathon day, it was crazy, people just kept donating!”
For Holly, running the marathon wasn’t just about raising money—it was a way to keep Bob’s memory alive, to turn her grief into something positive. As Holly prepared to run the marathon and Suzanne and Holly gear up for another New Year’s Day Dip, their grief has morphed into something powerful—something that not only honours Bob but also helps others who are going through the same pain. “How else is St Margaret’s going to raise money if we’re not getting involved?” Holly says. It’s that same spirit of giving back that keeps them moving forward, even as they carry Bob’s memory with them every step of the way.