My dad died peacefully at home – having had a syringe driver fitted. My mum and sisters and vicar all circled the bed and sang a hymn/song and it felt ‘a good death’. He asked me to look after Mum which I said I would and then he breathed his last. I later went to the wood and howled, with the support of my husband and this felt like waves – a bit like childbirth and labour pains. Over the days/weeks/months/years I felt at peace knowing that he loved me and I him.
