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The Art of Dying – Drs Peter and Elizabeth Fenwick

In May 1966 Raymond Hunt was home on leave from the Merchant Navy to visit his father, who was seriously ill in hospital with Iung cancer.

After visiting him on 25 May I had a few beers as normal at my local before retiring to bed, falling sound asleep . . . The next thing I remember was waking up with pains in my chest and trouble with my breathing. I tried to reach the light switch but could not because of the pains. I remember looking at the clock at the side of my bed and believe it was 4.15 a.m. The pains were not intense and I was fighting for my breath. I remember grabbing my mouth, forcing it open to help me to breathe. I was fighting for all I was worth but the pains were now unbearable.

Then the pains subsided, and I was overwhelmed with feelings of great peace and love.  All the pain had gone. I cannot possibly describe the feelings of love and great peace I experienced. I did not want the feelings to end, and wherever I was or was going to I wanted that. I did not want to come back to my body or this world.

I awoke with a start with someone knocking on the door at about 7 a.m. It was a neighbour on his way to work who had kindly agreed to take any telephone messages from the hospital (we did not have a phone). I knew of course before I opened the door what he was going to say - that my father had passed away during the night . . .

The experience had not affected my body: I was just as fit and alive as before I went to bed. But I'm sure you can understand the enormous mental effect it had on me. I could not and still cannot deny what had happened to me . . . I realized that all living things are precious, from the smallest to the largest, including flowers, plants, trees . . . We must all strive for a better world, by helping each other, without hurting anybody in mind or body. I hope my experience can help others, which is maybe why it happened. I know there is nothing to fear in death, and my father was happy.