This morning I set out as usual to see Mum. When I got to the Nursing Home the door to her room was shut so instead of leaning against the wall for 20 minutes I went into the hostel part to see an old friend. I visit her about twice a month and she accepts that, every visitor she gets is very welcome she tells me. She was a member of my old church so I told her I was meeting a few ladies for lunch today, she always says "maybe I will come with you next time" but she never does.

When I got back to Mum's room the door was open, she was not there and the bed next to hers was gone too. Freda got sick about the same time as Mum did but I knew she was very sick as yesterday the nurses were checking her hourly. Last week I think they were about the same condition but this week Mum is slightly better. I had a quick look in the room where the church service is held for Mum and she wasn't there so I went looking for her.

As I passsed the nurses desk I asked if Freda was okay. The nurse said she was in the chapel and would I like to go there? In the chapel I saw a young minister who is a friend of my son-in-law's and a woman in ther thirties I had not seen before and Freda on her bed. Yes, this was the last rites being performed. I sat quietly and prayed for my old friend who I knew had been among other things, a missionary, a children's nurse, an assistant in a small children's home and in her fifties when I met her a woman of much compassion. I knew she was dying by her breathing and her coloring.

The last rites service is short and meaningful and is said both for healing and forgiveness of sins. The niece and I added our prayers and "amens" and it was over. As the service ended the niece said: "I think she is gone now." and she had slipped away. I have seen quite a few people die in my chaplaincy work but never as quietly as she did. It was both peaceful and somehow reassuring that death can come so silently.

I went on to the lunch and the women there who had all known Freda were a little subdued by the news of her passing, we have lost three members of our group in the past three months. One women summed it all up when I had told them the story, she said: "her spirit was released" I agree, it was exactly how I had felt at that moment.

I went back this afternoon to visit Mum and she was fine, a little figgety but I was able to take her outside into a shady spot to listen to the sounds of spring. She seemed to calm down after a little while. I was glad I was able to do that for her, there is very little else I can do really. It is visit, speak, sing, massage her hands, the little touches of human kindness. I wish there was more I could do for her.

I just wanted to put all that down on paper. It was a proivilege to be there at a friend's passing, quite unexpected for me but somehow it felt right, as if a part of where I am right now.