I have sat with people who are dying and have watched the light of life leave them, their soul, I suppose. And I’ve wondered, hoped, that that essence, goes on to exist on another plane. For some time after DH died, I had a very strong sense of him around the house and once I heard him say my name, very distinctly, in his lovely Welsh accent. Just that one word, but in a querying tone as if he wanted to know where I was. I couldn’t bear to think that all that love and joy, intelligence and goodness was simply snuffed out for all eternity otherwise why do we exist at all? What is it all for? I wish I had a strong faith but I don’t; I can only hope.