‘NI Hospice counsellors helped me cope after the deaths of my sister and brother-in-law’
Christmas traditionally is a time for family, but how do you cope after someone close dies? Three NI women who went through that devastating trauma tell Claire O’Boyle how they have managed their grief and kept the festive spirit alive for the sake of you
Sally Kavanagh (64) lost her younger sister Lucinda O’Lenny to womb cancer in August 2014. Less than a year later, Lucinda’s husband Michael — an incredibly close friend to Sally — died from cancer too. Both Lucinda and Michael spent their final days at the NI Hospice. Here, assistant sales manager Sally, from north Belfast, opens up about her grief and tells how she feels closer to her sister than ever at Christmas.
Lucinda was two years younger than me and we were always so close. She married Michael and they were absolutely devoted to each other. While I had two children, she never had any, so she was wonderful with mine.
Lucinda was godmother to loads of children and to my girls she was like a second mum. At Christmas she’d come into her own. She spoiled them rotten and she loved to do it. I knew she got so much joy out of it.
In the weeks before she died, Lucinda stayed at the NI Hospice and the nurses were amazing. I remember one of them laughed when they saw my daughter giving her a spray tan out the back, but it lifted her spirits — and she looked great.
Lucinda was diagnosed with womb cancer in November 2013. She’d had a bit of pain and discomfort, but the tragic and awful thing was that earlier that year in the February doctors had found a tumour in her husband Michael’s eye and they’d had to remove it.
She was so focused on him that she had just put up with her symptoms and by the time they found the cancer it was too late.
On the same day doctors in Belfast told her the only option was palliative care, Michael was in Liverpool finding out his cancer was terminal.
I remember when I found out just how bad it was for both of them, I completely broke down. Then I saw the look of fear in Lucinda’s face and I knew right then it had to be all about her, so I pulled myself together.
From then on, both of them were completely focused on staying alive for the other one. They wanted to make sure the other one was cared for properly. In the end, it was Lucinda who died first. It was just devastating, but by that time Michael was very sick, so
all of our focus had to be on him. When he died 11 months and 11 days later, at the NI Hospice too, it was like the grief hit doubly hard because the shock of it finally sank in.
Coping with that level of grief is harder than I can say. It’s the saddest and most lonely feeling. I got a lot of solace from my family, of course, but as well as that I got support from the NI Hospice after both of their deaths.
One of the counsellors there had helped Lucinda through her final weeks, helping her cope with the fear of what was coming. When she died, I had help from the same counsellor. She also helped me again when Michael died.
I would recommend it 100%. It’s the saddest, loneliest time in your life and you just need people to be kind to you. When you’ve got all those feelings, sometimes you don’t even know how you feel. It’s all inside you with no words to get it out, but they can help you explain it and come to terms with it.
Christmas is hard. Lucinda absolutely loved this time of year. When they died, they left me their house and it might sound strange but at Christmas I feel closer to them than ever.
Lucinda had this huge 6ft Christmas tree and so many decorations — far more than I’d ever had in my house.
But I live here now and I put their Christmas tree and their decorations up every year and I feel closer to them for it.
I have three grandchildren now too and they love it all.
I go to the NI Hospice Service of Lights every Christmas with a candle for Lucinda and Michael.
One year, even though we were right at the back of the crowd, when we started to walk up to the tree, me and my little granddaughter somehow ended up at the front beside the tree.
She was there with her little hood up, holding her candle beside all the lights on the tree and she looked like a little angel. It’s a moment that really stuck with me.
It felt like somehow Lucinda was there and made it happen because it was a comfort I needed at the time. I volunteer with the NI Hospice now a couple of hours a week. It was a place that gave Lucinda and Michael such comfort — and me after they died — that I had to give back. Being involved in such a warm, wonderful place has helped me cope with my grief.”