When Marie was diagnosed with late-stage lymphoma in her late 70s, she declined treatment and entered long-term care under hospice. She hoped she would go quickly. She was no longer interested in living.
“She was depressed. She didn’t want to participate in anything,” says her daughter, Patricia. “She was just… done.”
Then Nancy Fraser, a HopeHealth hospice-certified nursing assistant (CNA), appeared at her door.
“Nancy came along and was unbelievably sweet with my mom,” says Patricia. “She took time with her. They talked about their lives. She found out my mom’s soap opera was The Young & the Restless — she’d say, ‘I know you don’t want to be here, but since you are, why don’t I come back later and we can watch your soap together?’”
Soon, Marie knew Nancy’s schedule by heart. Just like that, she had something to look forward to.
“We’d do her washing up in the morning, and Marie would always ask, ‘You’re coming back this afternoon to watch TV with me, right?’” says Nancy. “Every person is different. You have to find that, and look for it, and work with it.”
“Nancy has a special way of pulling out the good in people,” says Patricia. “She brought out the happiness in my mom. When she passed, I told Nancy: ‘You brought my mom so much joy.’”
> Learn how to get started with hospice care.
“It’s not just a job”
Each day, Nancy sees six or seven hospice patients at a long-term care facility in Rhode Island. The facility staff regard her as part of their extended team, partnering with them to care for certain residents. But because she is technically on HopeHealth’s team, dedicated to a small number of patients, Nancy also has the gift of extra time with her patients.
“I have the luxury of being with that person for as long as they need,” Nancy says. “I don’t have to answer any call lights. I don’t have to hurry through.”
As a hospice aide, her tasks are physical and personal: bathing, brushing hair, repositioning, dressing. Her presence is emotional, too. In a role like this, trust and compassion are everything.
“There are a few patients right now who are near the end,” Nancy says. “I go in and talk to them the whole time — I say, ‘I know this is hard. I’m here. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.’ I try to do everything slowly, gently.”
Along with the larger hospice team — which includes a nurse case manager, social worker, and others — she’s always noticing, listening, and checking in with families too. One of her current patients can no longer communicate. Between visits to their loved one, families rely on Nancy.
“When we can’t be there with my mom, it’s comforting knowing there are people like Nancy,” says Debbie, the daughter of one patient. “Nancy knows my mom. Not just her routine — her needs. She’s very good at assessing how she’s doing each day, if she seems comfortable. When she does my mom’s hair and dresses her each day, she makes an event of it. You can tell it’s not just a job to her. She’s all about caring.”
> Read: Finding the spark: The special calling of a hospice aide
“She is the hospice aide you’d want to care for your loved one”
In May 2025, Nancy was honored with HopeHealth’s Spirit of Hope Award, selected from 23 nominated team members across the organization. When her name and photo appeared on screen at the All-Staff Meeting, she was stunned.
“I had no idea. I was shocked,” she says. “I know so many people at HopeHealth that deserve to win this award.”
As the presentation continued, HopeHealth president and CEO Diana Franchitto read quotes from colleagues who’d nominated Nancy: “She brings peace into chaos, and communication even with patients in the depths of dementia… She is the hospice aide you would want to care for your loved one.”
For any of the families who have worked with Nancy, that rings true. One wife sent Nancy a letter after her husband passed. In it, she shared what Nancy meant to them, writing: “Richard went from, ‘My God, what did you get us into?’ to waking up in the morning and saying, ‘Nancy’s going to be here pretty soon — we better get up and get ready!’”
Nancy treasures that note. “Being recognized for being kind is just a huge compliment, more than any other kind of accolade,” she says.
Recently, another patient shared a similar sentiment, in a way that only he could. In his final days, he turned to Nancy and let her in on a secret. “You know, my wife and I call you Mary Poppins,” he said.
Nancy laughed. “Really?”
“Yes,” he said. “Because you came in out of nowhere, and you take care of us.”