This was my good friend Derna.
She died on 10 July 2023 at the age of 78. The photo is a still from a video I created a year prior to her passing, capturing the day we spent together delving into her Quaker roots in Yorkshire. Unbeknownst to us then, she had a tumor located outside her lungs near her heart, which was deemed inoperable.
Another friend dying of a cancer that was affecting the lungs.
Derna was born in Colne but had lived most of her life in Tasmania when the family emigrated in the early fifties. The family returned to Colne many times over the years for long holidays and Derna eventually moved back to Colne to live permanently after her mother and brother had passed away and she had taken early retirement. She never lost her Ozzie accent.
We met when I moved to Colne. She was a friend of my wife, Muriel, and we hit it off the moment we met. Derna was a funny old character. She could be quite grumpy and negative, but she did love conversations and debating and was really interested in the industrial history of Lancashire and Yorkshire.
She also possessed what she referred to as second sight. Frequently, she would gaze at you and make predictions about future events, incidents from your past, or occurrences in your vicinity. During her visit to me in France, she accurately described to a friend a horse suffering from severe abdominal pain and trapped wind. Interestingly, that same day, he had been tending to a horse with colic. Was it a mere coincidence? I don't think so; I believe there are no coincidences.
After relocating to France, we stayed connected, and I made a point to visit her whenever I was in the UK. Throughout the Covid-19 Pandemic, I called her daily to check on her well-being, and we also used FaceTime so she could see me.
Illness
Derna was a heavy smoker. Although she claimed otherwise, stating she only took a few puffs of her favorite rollies, she actually smoked a considerable amount. Eventually it caught up with her. The usual signs, coughing a lot, a dry cough that was persistent and she felt very tired. I had noticed this myself during a trip out we had to the impressive Undercliffe Cemetery in Bradford which I was photographing for my taphophile hobby.
After several tests she was diagnosed with a form of lung cancer. The tumour was on the outside of her lung and inoperable as it was situated too near her heart. She had radiotherapy to try and shrink it, but it was a terminal diagnosis. The radiation was trying to buy time. They gave her 12 months to live. She was shocked. She told me that she had a number in mind of her death and 78 wasn't it.
Derna lived by herself. Her ex-partner's son, Scott, and his wife, Jade, along with myself, took on the responsibility of assisting her with hospital visits and monitoring her well-being. Since I lived in France, Scott and Jade primarily handled this task, while I could only provide occasional help during my visits. I made sure to see her as often as possible and called her daily, speaking with her about her cancer, her life, her beloved Colne, world politics, well I suppose about life in general as you do.
As the months went by, her condition deteriorated further. Breathing became difficult, forcing her to sleep in a seated position. Despite feeling extremely exhausted, her nights were filled with restlessness. Frequently, she would rise from bed and sit at the kitchen table, tuning in to the wireless while enjoying a smoke. It might appear odd that she continued smoking despite having lung cancer, yet it was her sole source of pleasure. With the end approaching, what did it truly matter? Smoking brought her solace, and who could begrudge her that?
About a month before she died I called her and she told me she was in hospital. She had had a minor stroke. Her speach was slightly slurred but she could move her arms and legs luckily and discharged herself after two days. She wasn't going to end her time in hospital. She wanted to make sure she was home when she died and she had decided that Scott, Jade and myself would be the ones to see her though her final days.
The unusual occurrences during her final days
I received a call around 9pm on Monday 26th June from Jade. Derna was in a bad way, come now.
I grabbed some clothes, jumped in my car and headed for Le Shuttle, the train that transports you and your car under the English Channel. I got a crossing around 2am and headed to my old house in Oxfordshire. I grabbed a couple of hours sleep and then drove onwards to Lancashire, arriving at lunchtime.
I walked in to her house to be greeted by Jade, a neighbour and Derna all sitting at the kitchen table.
My welcome from Derna was, "Took you bloody long enough." We shared a laugh, using humour to ease the tension. As we gathered around the table, we chatted and enjoyed a meal together. Although Derna couldn't eat much, she managed to taste a dish Jade had prepared before it had to be removed from her mouth to prevent choking. The neighbour departed at 6 pm, prompting Derna to express Patch's fondness for the recreation ground atop the moors. It dawned on me that she was eager to go out.
"Do you want us to take you to the rec with Patch?" I asked her.
"Yes" she said.
Well, it was all hands on deck. I drove my car as close to her kitchen door as I could. Scott came up and he and Jade somehow hoisted her in. When we arrived at the rec, Derna couldn't get out of the car, but myself and Scott walked Patch around while Derna looked on with a smile on her face and of course, having a ciggie. When we returned I asked if she wanted to go anywhere else, but no, it was time to go home.
Shadow Spirits and Death
After putting Derna to bed, she remained there without getting up again. Jade and I took turns to sit with her and ensure she was comfortable. In the evenings, a carer would come in to provide night time assistance so we could get some rest. Jade and I often shared a bottle of wine and had conversations about various topics to unwind and relax after the day's challenges.
A couple of days before her passing, while she was alert, she requested a cigarette. Jade obliged and rolled one for her, then she asked us to play some music. She wished to hear Jim Reeves, so I recommended the touching song "He'll Have To Go". With her eyes shut, Derna listened intently, enjoying her cigarette.
Next, she requested Helen Reddy's "I am Woman," which we played. Both Jade and I were moved to tears.
After finishing her cigarette, Derna remarked, "that was lovely." She looked at us and stated emphatically, "See, I'm not that boring, am I?" We assured her she never had been. We helped her lie down, and she fell into a deep sleep, never to awaken again.
While sitting with Derna, I kept noticing shadows passing outside her bedroom door along the hallway. I initially thought it was just my imagination, but one evening I inquired with Jade if she had also witnessed anything strange. She confirmed that she had been seeing shadows passing by the bedroom door as well. It seemed like we were both experiencing the same phenomenon.
Patch, the dog, was resting on the bed with Derna, frequently gazing towards the door or jumping off to investigate outside. I strongly believe that there were other presences with us in that moment.
While sitting alone with her, I suddenly experienced a shiver down my spine and the sensation of someone running their fingers through my hair, even though there was no one else in the room. On another occasion, Jade and I were with her when a noise behind me sounded like a movement and someone bumping into the dressing table. Patch the dog, Jade, and I all swiftly turned around upon hearing it. However, nothing had fallen or moved, giving the moment a slightly otherworldly feel.
On the evening of Derna's passing, she exhibited strong and steady breathing, reminiscent of a steam train. It appeared as though she still had a few more days ahead of her. When the night carer arrived, Jade and I followed our usual routine and retreated to the conservatory to enjoy a bottle of wine to relax. Shortly after, Patch emerged from the room, paused in the hallway, glanced around, and then gazed upwards before returning to Derna's side. Finding this behaviour peculiar, Jade decided to check on Derna, only to find her still breathing steadily as before. She rejoined me in the conservatory, and we resumed our conversation. Just moments later, the carer entered and addressed us.
"I think you need to go in"
We placed our drinks on the table and ran into the room. Derna was dead. Just like that. As if someone had switched off the light.
We opened the windows and said goodbye.
Derna
Below is a vlog I made of a trip out I had with Derna when we explored her Quaker heritage.
This was made about a year before she was diagnosed with cancer.
I am pleased that we went on this trip. I believe she intended to guide me to the place where her grandparents were laid to rest. This way, when the time is appropriate, Scott, Jade, her friend Lynne, Muriel, and I can scatter her ashes there, alongside her mother's and brothers'. We will respect her final wishes and are liaising with the Quakers to secure permission.
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