This is Steph Neville’s story, who’s Mum was recently a patient at the Hospice.

“My Mum was admitted to the in-patient unit at the Hospice in May last year from a busy in-patient ward in an acute Hospital. At the time we were told her death would be hours away – so desperate were we that she shouldn’t die in that setting that once I knew there was a bed for her, I contemplated driving her myself to the Hospice – but she was moved in time and so our relationship with the Hospice started.

And I say our relationship purposefully because it wasn’t just about Mum, it became about us. There were 3 of us involved in the move to the Hospice, not just Mum – it was also about Dad and me. Mum & Dad had been together for a lifetime – 67 years and Dad’s abiding wish was that Mum didn’t die alone.

The staff were all reassuring and although I knew that they would ring me if her end was looking near. We became part of the fixtures and fittings at the Hospice – shifts coming and going, staff saying goodbye as they went off on leave and hello as they returned and we were still there, waiting and waiting.

So I bedded in and made the Hospice my home too, night and day. I just hadn’t expected my stay to last a full 3 weeks – a testament to my Mum’s spirit and amazing heart!

“When the end finally came for Mum, Dad was with her and I was in the rose garden of the Hospice. I had just picked up a tag to see the name of a particular rose I loved there – appropriately enough it was called Champagne Memories. I have some champagne memories of compassionate care in action by staff at the Hospice – a real privilege to have been on the receiving end of it.”