“The Hospice has been life-saving for me. Seven months since Bernard died, I still attend the monthly bereavement coffee mornings and the peaceful strolls through Sandringham woods. Being with others who understand this dark place has helped me keep going.”
I met Bernard when I was twenty-eight. He was older, a renowned academic, and together we formed a blended family of eight children. We built a full, joyful life — farming, travelling, laughing, and sharing more than forty years together.
Everything changed in 2004 when Bernard was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. Over the years it steadily took away his independence: walking became difficult, eating dangerous, and simple daily tasks required constant support. He later faced a rare cancer diagnosis and repeated hospital treatment, and I cared for him at home through every stage. By 2017, I was physically exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed, surviving on only a few hours of sleep while trying to meet all his needs.
This was when Tapping House stepped in. Sarah, the Hospice social worker, visited us at home and quickly arranged a package of support that transformed our lives. We received night-sitting nurses so I could finally rest, day sitters who stayed with Bernard so I could run essential errands, and even complementary therapy to support my own wellbeing. For the first time in years, I felt held, understood, and no longer alone.
As Bernard reached the final days of his life, the Hospice guided us with compassion and dignity. Their advice helped us honour his wish to remain at home, comfortable and cared for. I was able to be with him, holding him, as he died peacefully.
After his death, when the world felt unbearably empty, the support didn’t end. The Hospice offered bereavement counselling, safe spaces to talk and cry, and group activities where I met others who truly understood grief. “Walking through that door is like being wrapped in a warm, loving embrace.”
I know I still have a long road ahead, but I also know I’m not alone. Tapping House has supported both of us — in life, in death, and in everything that comes after.