These are the words of Tom, whose wife Jane was cared for at St Vincent’s Hospice.
My name is Tom. I was married to Jane for more than 35 years. She was 71 when she died.
Jane was a nurse. She understood illness and what treatment can do and take away. When she became breathless after a holiday, we didn’t think it would end like this. Within days of coming home, we were sitting in hospital, being told Jane had been diagnosed with cancer and had just two months to live.
She was offered chemotherapy, but Jane said no. She didn’t want more time if it meant suffering. She wanted quality of life.
Two months after her diagnosis, Jane came to St Vincent’s Hospice. For me, that moment meant more than I can explain.
Jane had a room looking out over the fields where we had walked our dogs for 25 years. She said, “That’s my daily bread out there” meaning the simple, everyday moments that gave her joy and comfort.
What mattered most to Jane wasn’t being afraid of dying “She wasn’t scared in the slightest, she knew where she was going.” What mattered was feeling calm. Feeling comfortable. Feeling like herself. At the hospice, she had that.
Jane shared
Before she died, she asked me to keep one promise – to keep sending the daily texts to our grandchildren:
That love is what remains.
