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The Art of Dying – Dr  Peter and Elizabeth Fenwick

Rachel Scarott told a similar story. Her father had cancer and in his last few weeks he became too ill to be looked after at home and had to be taken into a home for the terminally ill.

The day before he died, I walked into his room and he asked me who the lady was that was with me. I started to tell him there was no one with me and then changed my story and told him she would be going soon as I could see he was convinced I wasn’t alone. I initially put it down to the large amount of drugs he was infusing. The same afternoon, my brother was sat with me and suddenly Dad, asked to be sat up.

He hadn't said much for a few days but seemed at this point to know exactly what was happening. I asked if he was uncomfortable and he said 'No' but the lady needed to walk around him. I sat him up a bit but his head was trying to turn to see if this 'lady' was all right. I told him the lady had successfully passed, and that all was well. His gaze followed around the bed, for a few seconds and then he relaxed. It was the last words he spoke to me, as he died the next morning.

My brother and I didn't say anything about this for a few hours until I asked him if he thought it may have been our mother. My brother known for his practicality said, it was exactly what he had thought. Our mother had died nearly six years earlier with Alzhiemer’s and my father had been her carer for nearly seven years. It's something I would like to believe and to know that they are together again in good health.