Gwyneth’s Story

Mummy was born at her family home in the Meadow in April 1968 and later grew up on the Armagh Road, she was the middle child of five. She married Daddy in 1988, had a family of her own- four children and blessed with seven grandchildren later in life. Family was everything to her and she was always singing our praises to everyone she knew.

She had such a great personality, she was bubbly and outgoing- someone who had time for everyone who crossed her path. Always joking and playing pranks on someone, and rest assure caught someone out every year on April Fools Day.

A woman who loved her sports, and won many trophies and medals in her youth for various sports such as cross country and football. She would later find herself running the roads taking some one of us one direction or another to football, camogie etc but one clear memory we all have of growing up is her taking us to the Armagh games. A day out that everyone enjoyed. We as a family treasure the memory of her last ever attendance at an Armagh game, the All Ireland in 2024 when Armagh won their second ever All Ireland, 3 days before her diagnosis.

Armagh won Sam Maguire on Sunday 28th July, and on Wednesday 31st July Mummy had received devastating news that she had cancer again for the third time, having had lung and breast cancer previously in the past. The cancer had returned in her lung and this time it had metastasized on the bottom of her spine. This news completely broke us, as we informed it was terminal but it was mummy who kept the spirits up and gave us all inspiration to fight whatever obstacles come your way.

Aside from her GP surgery and many different hospitals appointments, Mummy received help at home via the district nurses, the specalist palliative care team and Evora Hospice. The hospice was always somewhere close to our hearts as a family, as our Granda, (Mummy’s father) spent time as an inpatient himself and sadly passed away in hospice in 1997.

Mum spent time in the hospice on two occasions for symptom management. Although, as a family, the word hospice initially carried a lot of fear and uncertainty, our experience showed us something completely different. From the moment Mum arrived, she was treated with such dignity, patience and genuine kindness. The hospice was not simply somewhere she went to receive medication or treatment. It was somewhere she was listened to. Somewhere her symptoms were taken seriously. Somewhere the focus was on making her as comfortable as possible and helping her have the best quality of life she could.

For our family, that meant more than we could ever put into words. Watching someone you love become unwell is one of the hardest things a family can experience. There is so much that you cannot fix, and so many times when you feel completely helpless. The hospice staff gave us reassurance when we needed it most. They answered our questions, listened to our worries and supported not only Mum, but all of us around her.

There was never a feeling that we were a burden or that our questions were silly. We were welcomed, supported and treated with compassion. And Mum noticed it too. I remember Mummy saying one day when I went into visit her, “These nurses and doctors in here are earth angels, they can’t do enough for me; and everything’s done straight away.” Despite everything she was going through, she recognised the kindness around her.

Her stays in the hospice also taught us something that we wish more people knew: hospice does not have to mean giving up. The word itself can be frightening. Many people hear “hospice” and immediately think it means the end is near. We certainly had our own fears and misconceptions. But our experience was that hospice was about so much more than that. It was about symptom management. It was about comfort. It was about helping Mum feel better. It was about giving her and our family the support we needed to face an incredibly difficult situation. It was a place where Mum was cared for as a person, not simply as a patient.

During her time in hospice the chaplain came to visit her and even arranged for our parish priest to come in visit her. We were made aware of counselling we could all avail off too if we felt we needed it. We were also offered the help of hospice at home if there came a time we needed it. Since Mummy’s passing, family members have availed of bereavement counselling, this is another vaulble asset the hospice has to offer.

For our family, the hospice became a place associated not with fear, but with some of the most compassionate care Mum received throughout her illness. We understand that fear, because we felt it too. We will always be grateful to every person who played a part in caring for her. Some people may never fully realise the difference they make to families like ours. A kind word, a gentle touch, taking the time to listen, explaining something when a family is frightened — these things may seem small, but to someone going through the hardest time of their life, they mean everything.

Our experience was that hospice was a place of comfort, dignity, compassion and humanity. It was somewhere Mum could receive specialist care when her symptoms became difficult to manage, while our family received support and reassurance too. Please don’t see hospice as a place to be afraid of. See it as a place where people will care. The staff will do everything they can to make difficult days a little easier.

We will forever be grateful that Mum had the opportunity to experience the care and compassion of the hospice, and we will forever carry those words she used with us: “They are Earth’s angels.” And when we look back now, we understand exactly why as those words could not have been any more fitting.

Thank you to every member of the hospice team who cared for our mum and supported our family. You gave us comfort during a time when we needed it more than we could ever explain.

For that, we will always be grateful.