I’ve had a great life ... I just wish it had been longer
Radio 2 vicar, 60, says she has weeks to live
SHE’S been the voice of comfort for many when presenting the Radio 2 faith slot Pause For Thought.
But the Reverend Ruth Scott has left many of her listeners in tears after revealing she has just weeks to live.
Speaking from her hospital bed in what is likely to be her final broadcast, she told Chris Evans she was saying her ‘goodbyes’ after being diagnosed with lymphoma two years ago.
‘Reverend Ruth’, as she is known by her fans, was interviewed by close friend Evans on Virgin Radio from Southampton General Hospital. They worked together for almost a decade while he was at Radio 2.
She was joined by her husband of 37 years, Chris, as she talked about the prospect of leaving behind her two children, Freya, 30, and Tian, 23.
Mrs Scott, 60, told Evans: ‘I’ve got two or three weeks to live at most so we’re in the middle of saying goodbyes with the family and thinking about how it is to be separating from one another.
‘Death feels very weird at one level, but it feels very natural at another level. I’ve got to accept the fact that I’m dying. I’m not frightened. I’ve had the most fantastic life. I just wish that it had been longer.’
Listeners took to social media to praise Evans for his gentle interviewing style, calling it ‘some of the best radio I’ve ever heard’. Mrs Scott also described a tender moment when her son sat at her bedside and asked her if she could give him 60 years of wisdom in one day.
The vicar said she thought she would end up in a wicker coffin, or scattered in the Bay of Brodick, off the Isle of Arran, Scotland, and described planning a ‘celebratory’ memorial service of colour.
She and Evans refused to say goodbye at the end of the 20-minute interview as they admitted ‘who knows’ what comes next.
The clergywoman has spoken about her cancer diagnosis before. During a Pause for Thought show in 2018, she said: ‘Last year when I started with the cancer, uncertainty was the thing I found the hardest – not knowing what the diagnosis was etcetera, but suddenly now I am quite happy with uncertainty. I can sit more easily with it than I did last year.’
‘I’ve got to accept it – I’m not frightened’