Horses were there at the start and end of his life.
As a boy in the 1950s, Alan had grown up surrounded by horses. His grandparents bred Clydesdales, those great, gentle giants who were still relied upon for farm work, heavy hauling, and logging. With eight siblings beside him, Alan’s childhood was filled with the sound of hooves and the smell of leather harness. He adored the Clydesdales. As children, they’d scramble onto their broad backs while the horses were working, but the moment a foot hit the ground, the horses would stop, careful and patient.
Alan’s daughter Stephanie recalls, “He found it fascinating how they were so considerate and gentle, these huge animals.
They’d never stand on your foot, they wouldn’t even step in a puddle. They were gracious, calm, and relaxed.” Much like Alan himself. He worked hard, never complained, and carried a quiet strength that mirrored the animals he admired so much.
That same strength showed through his long battle with cancer. First diagnosed with bowel cancer in 2001, Alan endured surgery and six months of chemo and radiation before getting the all-clear.
Stephanie was only 11, and though she remembers how sick her dad became, what she remembers most was his toughness. He never faltered in showing up for his family.
Alan had been the stay-at-home parent, raising his children while his wife worked. Stephanie treasures that time as the foundation of their closeness. Throughout her life, Alan would leave her little notes, reminders, encouragements, or just thoughtful gestures. She still has the last one he ever wrote, stuck to her fridge: a message to say he’d kept the coffee warm and a warning not to trip over the cord as she was known for being a bit clumsy. Small words, but they captured the love and care he always showed
Over the years, the cancer returned again and again. In 2016, it spread into his small and large intestine. In 2018, it returned to his bladder and prostate. Surgeries followed, and eventually Alan was living with two ostomy bags — something unheard of in the Bay of Plenty. In 2022, he was diagnosed once more, this time with a terminal cancer pressing on his sciatic nerve. It slowly paralysed his leg and caused searing pain, but still he fought. Round after round of chemotherapy left him sick and exhausted, yet he carried on, “I’m pretty sure he was doing it purely for me and my siblings, he was buying time.” Stephanie cries.
That year, Waipuna Hospice came into Alan’s journey. Their visits brought relief, not just for Alan but for his children too. “Dad really liked all the Hospice nurses he had over the years; they were all so great with him. For me and my siblings, it was such a relief knowing he was cared for. It was like I could finally breathe.”
By 2023, Alan received a walker and other equipment to help improve quality of life, and his pain was managed with help from Dr. Murray Hunt and the Hospice team. He would describe the sharp jolts from the cancer pressing on his nerve as “belts” — sudden, fierce shocks that left him reeling.
Alan was a man full of stories. On the many visits from his Waipuna Hospice community nurses, he’d often share tales of his life, his family, and his adventures. Ebony, one of his regular nurses, remembers how much she enjoyed listening to him. It wasn’t until his very last home visit before he came into the Inpatient Unit at Te Puna that Alan finally let it slip — his lifelong love of horses. Ebony could tell from the way that he spoke, the passion and love in his words that these gentle giants meant more to him than he was letting on.
He was admitted to the Inpatient Unit one Friday with no fear. “Don’t worry Stephanie, I am coming home on Monday”, Stephanie recalls.
While Alan and his family were getting some respite, the team at Waipuna Hospice were working busy behind the scenes to make his stay that little bit more special.
Plans were quickly made. The very next day, Alan phoned Stephanie with excitement: “Get all the family together and bring the kids, there’s going to be a horse here today!”
Almost his whole family gathered at Waipuna Hospice that afternoon. Outside Alan’s room stood a horse, calm and gentle, just like the ones he had grown up with. His grandchildren took turns riding, their laughter filling the air. Alan watched, smiling, surrounded by the people he loved most, reunited at last with the animals that had shaped his childhood.
For Stephanie, that moment became a treasure: “It’s a core memory I will never forget. A lasting memory for the kids too — they loved it, and Dad loved it.”
Just two days later, Alan passed away. But he left his family with a final gift — the memory of joy, connection, and the enduring spirit of a man whose quiet strength was as steady as the Clydesdales he loved.
This was a first for Waipuna Hospice as it is not often that we get to give our patients final gifts, but it is because of the support we get from our community that allows us to spend time with our patients in their homes and help them feel comfortable towards the end of their life
We are currently facing a financial challenge, this one bigger and tougher than ever before. We face a huge gap between what the Government provides and what it costs to run our services. We’re determined to continue to provide our care free-of-charge, but the cost is high.
Today, I’m asking you to help us create more of these special moments for our families like Alan and Stephanie.
Your donation means more families can receive this same level of care – not just in the final days, but throughout the whole journey. It ensures someone else can stay at home with the people and memories they love. That no one has to do it alone.
We want to say a huge thank you to Stephanie for sharing her father’s story with us.
Please make a donation today. Your generosity ensures Waipuna Hospice can continue providing wrap-around compassionate care to those in our community who need it most