We caught up with Marleen and Genevieve, who work together at hospice. Their warm demeanour immediately puts you at ease, making you feel like you've known them for years. They are kind, welcoming, and full of humour. The relationship between them is truly special — there’s a deep respect and admiration they share for one another, as well as the way they work together to ensure they provide the best care possible for people in their community. Here’s their story…
Finding Hospice:
"I met Marleen because my husband was under hospice care. When she came, it made all the difference. We had been struggling up until then. We were trying to access help from social workers, and, you know, when you go to different places in the hospital, they keep directing you from one social worker to another. Then we came here. Marleen sat in our house. She just sat and listened, which really caught us off guard because we weren’t used to that. We were used to people coming in, talking, but not really asking us questions. But she sat there and showed a genuine interest in my husband — who he was and what was important to him. Before we knew it, we were laughing.
Within days, we started to see all these people. The physiotherapist came, the social worker came, and all the help we had been trying to push for became so much easier once we came to hospice. So now, in my role, I tell everyone, 'Let us help you.'
Marleen cared for us and helped us connect with all the different services we needed. When my husband passed, I called Marleen and said, 'What do I do now? What am I supposed to do?'
Later, I saw a job opening at the hospice and reached out to Marleen. My goal became, 'I want to be like Marleen. I want to do for others what she did for my family.' Now, I’m the Pacific Cultural Liaison at the hospice, and I report to Marleen, in the same role she held when she supported me on my journey. And I love my job. Hospice really does make a difference, and there’s nothing like experiencing it firsthand."
Supporting families while allowing them to fulfil cultural obligations:
"I always still feel privileged every time Gen shares that story," says Marleen.
"I always tell her, 'You’re going to cringe, Marleen, but I’m going to say it anyway.'"
Marleen laughs and adds, "There’s that cringe, but at the same time, there’s that privilege, because Gen’s taking our service to the next level. She holds weekly groups for patients’ families and whānau to come to hospice. We have so many people attending, with such high engagement.
For me, hospice is special because I saw it through a personal lens too. I saw how hospice could help families while still allowing them to fulfil their cultural obligations. It was so comforting to see that the care they provided didn’t strip our family of those cultural duties and responsibilities. For us, it’s an honour to be able to do that as we approach the end of life. When I experienced that, I wanted other Pacific and Māori families to have the same experience.
Knowing that it's a charity, that it’s free, and that you have access to specialist services — it felt like something I needed to share with others. I wanted to encourage them to receive the same kind of support I had seen.
I’ve worked in health, mostly in primary care and the prevention space, but the quality of life matters from the beginning, from the crib to the grave. That’s always been important to me.
Working together to strengthen our service:
Gen adds, "When we take our Pacific patients through, they often ask, 'Can I book a room for a couple of weeks?' And I tell them, 'It’s not that kind of hotel, guys.'
I remember the first tour I gave. A new patient said, 'It’s nothing like what people say, nothing like I was told.' There’s definitely a fear around hospice. Many think they’re just going to die right away. We have to debunk those myths.
I always tell them, 'Come and visit. You’ve got to feel it and experience it.' Once they do, hospice becomes like home. And when they need to come to our inpatient unit or call us, it’s much easier because they’ve already built trust and a relationship."
We actually do the bulk of our work in the community, and that’s a big relief for people. We have beds here if needed, but 70% of our work is in their own homes. Our community team is our biggest."
"Also, people need to know they have permission to say 'no' if they don’t want hospice care. They can always say 'yes' later. We never close the door.”
Finding ways to connect with the community:
"Gen has a lovely way of introducing people to our service. She invites them to come to our Talanoa group. A lot of families come, sometimes across generations."
Gen agrees, "Yes, sometimes we have three generations! On Friday afternoons, we hold a Pasifika Talanoa group, which just means a discussion or talk for Pacific patients and their families. We’ll have around 20 people in the room, and sometimes we do activities like Zumba, with island music.
People just need to connect with others and have fun. My job is to create a space, provide resources, and allow time for people to connect with each other. They encourage each other, share what works for them. A few weeks ago, we started an online group. We send the link, and if people want to join, they can. The hour flies by as they introduce themselves, talk to each other, and encourage one another. Then, they say, 'Goodbye, you’re doing great.' It’s peaceful. Last week, someone said, 'I realise I’m not alone.' Another said, 'I realise that Talanoa is my village.'"
If someone was worried about coming, what would you say to them?
Gen nods and says, "It’s totally fine, we understand, and we’d love to show you around. I can come out to you first, meet you, and tell you more. We can then take you on a private tour. You don’t have to come to a group. Not everyone is a group person — it’s about you. That’s what patient-centered care is all about. There’s always an invitation to visit. Like Marleen said, we never close the door. Just call us when you’re ready."
