Ray's story - Volunteer Mary

Mary spent 14 years working at one of the Dove House Hospice shops, and it was a place she truly loved. Even before I retired, while I was still working, she had already started volunteering there, and it quickly became so much more than just a role. She made dear friends and built strong bonds, especially with Caroline, the Shop Manager. They hit it off completely. Mary was the kind of person who always looked after others, and her time at Dove House brought that part of her to life every day.

She had always been that way, caring and giving. She looked after my mum when she was unwell with Alzheimer’s, right up until she died from a stroke. Mary did it without complaint, just with love. That’s who she was.

Mary and I had been together for 23 years. We’d known each other since we were teenagers, both having been married before, I divorced, and she was widowed. Our children grew up playing together, her son and my daughter, and our families often spent Christmases together. When things got more serious between us, I packed in my job, which had me working away, and moved up here to be with her. She was my soulmate. We were proud of the life we built, it was full of simple joys, love, and laughter.
She adored her time volunteering at the hospice shop. She came home glowing after every shift. Whether it was helping elderly customers or chatting with the regulars, she made everyone feel special.

We created a lifetime of memories together enjoying many holidays both abroad and, in this country, but still making sure we supported Dove House for their local events such as Giant Bradley Day in Market Weighton, when plenty of photos were taken. Her top bucket list dream was whale watching. We researched and planned it together, finally taking the trip of a lifetime to Nova Scotia. It was magical. When we got home, she smiled at me and said, “We’ve done it.” She was content.

Mary was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2018. She had a lumpectomy and started chemotherapy, which meant she had to stop volunteering for a while, as her immune system couldn’t cope. She missed it deeply. Still, she faced every challenge head-on, even when treatment caused horrendous side effects.

When the cancer returned in her bones, and then her liver, we knew we were running out of time. But thanks to the chemotherapy, she wasn’t in pain when she came to the hospice. We knew Dove House was the right place, she already knew everything it stood for. She felt safe there. The nurses and doctors were incredible, not just skilled, but kind and deeply intuitive. If she needed something, it was never too much trouble. I remember her once saying she fancied porridge with honey and just like that, they brought her a bowl, no hesitation. It was those little things that meant so much.

One of the nurses once told me that the last sense to go is hearing. That stuck with me. On the day she died, I mentioned to one of the nurses that her favourite singer was Katie Melua. They brought in an Alexa and I set it on her pillow, playing the songs she loved. Knowing she was surrounded by something familiar, something she loved, it brings me comfort, even now.

She was only in the hospice for five days. We knew it was days rather than weeks. I went home briefly to see her son, Dan, and told her I’d be back the next day. I left at 6pm. At 7:10pm, I got the call to say she had died. I returned and spent a final hour with her. In a strange way, it brought me peace, just being with her one last time.
She wouldn’t have swapped her time at Dove House for anything in the world.