Liz’s story

At the end, Mum just wanted to care for others too

At the same time my dad was dying, my sister was having treatment for a rare form of cancer. My sister was an amazing woman. We shared the same irreverent sense of humour: I cared for her and I used to take her shopping in a wheelchair – not because she couldn’t walk, but to conserve her energy. She used to call us Lou and Andy, after the Little Britain characters.

Sadly, my sister died within a year of my dad, which was very tough on Mum. After that, she and I became extremely close because it was just the two of us left.

Mum had kidney and heart disease in later life and after a series of falls, her health went downhill. I would go to her house two or three times a week and we were still working together in the garden, weeding and putting the world to rights, until a fortnight before she died.

It was only a matter of weeks that Mum was cared for by St Barnabas House. She had end-of-life care at home for two or three days, and the healthcare assistants were absolute angels. By that time, she was unconscious and they dealt with intimate hygiene, brushed her hair, made sure she was comfortable and fresh.

We had a private carer called Barry too, who shared Mum’s passion for gardening and filled her room with flowers. On the day she died, Barry and I were with her and she was completely calm; she just stopped breathing. It was a very good death and afterwards Barry and I shared a bottle of Prosecco and walked on the beach.

A love that lasts always

Mum and I had the most beautiful relationship, and that hasn’t changed. I still feel the same love for her, and I know that she loves me still. I have the strongest feeling that she is out there somewhere. She’s with the rest of my family and I will see them again. I’ve been so blessed to have such a wonderful family, and I just happen to be the last one standing.

The way I see it, we’re not a body with a soul – we are a soul temporarily inhabiting a body. In many ways, everything is still just the same as it was. But I still miss her. I miss her touch and, most of all, I miss the person I was in her eyes.

Mum wanted her legacy to help other people, especially people with no family. Mum and I looked after Gran when she died, I looked after my sister, and with the help of St Barnabas House, Mum looked after my father. In a very old-fashioned way, we’ve kept it in-house, as it were. But there are an awful lot of people out there that don’t have anybody at the end. Those are the people she most wanted to help.