My Jane Died Today

15th May 2026, 02:45

5 minutes late

Having left My Jane seemingly peaceful and asleep at 11 p.m. the previous night, I received the dreaded call from the hospice. At 02.45.

I needed to come back quickly. Jane was going to die soon, and I should get there as soon as I could.

I quickly messaged the 2 sons (EDT and DT) who had been with me just a few hours earlier and lived locally.

Then, at 02:52, just as I was leaving, the hospice called again.

She was taking her last breaths. Hurry.

I drove back to the hospital. It was just over 10 minutes away.

One of the boys (DT) – the one who’d done the driving marathon for radiotherapy treatment when we’d lived an hour away, 4 years ago for cancer number 1 – lived closer than I did.

He was waiting for me outside and we went in together.

Too late.

I’d missed it.

My Jane had died a few minutes earlier.

I kissed her goodbye and held her hand for the last time.

And cried.

Of course, we’d known this was coming. But knowing something is going to happen doesn’t make it any less of a shock when it actually does.

Then, somehow, I switched into automatic mode.

I listened, with what I thought was full attention, to the “what happens now” instructions, and collected up her things.

Somewhat randomly, I think, I asked for the nurses to remove her engagement, wedding, and eternity rings so I could take them home.

I was probably subconsciously worried they’d go missing. Nothing more than that.

They had to find some butter to get them off. Funny the silly little details you notice. And remember.

I hugged our son.

We went home. Our separate ways.

I messaged everyone I could think of despite it being the middle of the night.

Had a G&T – probably 2 knowing me – and went back to bed at 5 a.m.

I think I slept.