Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady

By Shelley Kuecks, former Cowichan Hospice Palliative Services Coordinator

We are incredibly privileged in our work at Hospice—the work that your generosity makes possible. We walk alongside those on their own journeys of death, dying and grief, and often get to meet people as their whole, unbridled selves. Being able to witness and honour people’s sorrow and pain, as well as their strength, resilience and wisdom—from this we learn, and we grow too.

Eric* first called Hospice in 2015 on the advice of his doctor. He’d been diagnosed with a disease that would most likely progress slowly, but could also end his life quickly and without much warning. He didn’t appear ill but came to find out what we offered in case he wanted support later. He had been married to the love of his life for 33 years. Though their love story is not mine to share, I can share the words that inspired his quest to win her heart, for I will remember them always... “Faint heart never won fair lady.” I was always a little surprised each time Eric came back to Hospice. He was, what you might call, a man’s man. But the thought of having to leave his wife brought tears to his eyes. It was clear he wanted to make sure she would be okay after he was gone.

I often wondered what she was like, the ‘fair lady’ of his love story. Then one day he said she wanted hospice support, too. And so I met Carmen*, the bright, spirited and force- to-be-reckoned-with woman of his heart. In my sessions with each of them, we talked about how they were communicating (or not!), the different ways they were each dealing (or not!) with the idea of his death, the struggles to try to live a ‘normal’ life under the ever-present shadow of his disease, the constant changes to his health and the accompanying worries. Their sessions were separate not because they kept anything from each other, but because it was a safe place to sort out their individual thoughts and feelings. It was also a buffer of sorts between the future that was looming and their struggle to be present in their everyday lives.

Over the four years we were connected, there were long periods of time where I didn’t see them. There were times when death felt very close and times when hope for life was reignited. During the good days they were busy living their lives and doing the things they wanted to do, together. Eric died in 2019, with Carmen holding his hand. He had always said he wasn’t ready to die, but when the time truly came there was acceptance, humour, and immense love for his wife. Theirs is a love story I will not soon forget.

Thank you, Eric and Carmen, for allowing Hospice to be part of your journey and your love story. Thank you also to those who make this incredibly important work possible.

*Names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.