In the days prior to his passing this week,  KEN KELLY was a patient at Galway Hospice. In an extraordinarily moving piece – all the more poignant now because of his death, he wrote of how life-affirming his experience was and how he’d been met with nothing but unconditional love.

My name is Ken Kelly. I live with my family in Moycullen. I was a baker all my life — head baker in the local supermarket. I loved my work, loved meeting people every day, and was very proud of what I did.

Around October last year, I felt something in my throat. I was a heavy smoker, and deep down I knew it wasn’t good.

In February, I brought my son to hospital for an MRI and, while I was there, I went into A&E myself. The doctors took one look at my throat and decided to run some tests.

I remember when I got the results — the doctor looked at me and said: “You have cancer.”

When I told my son, we just fell into each other’s arms. He said: “Come on, Dad, we’re not going to let this decide who we are.”

Those words have stayed with me.

That’s where my story really starts. Since then, I went through 35 rounds of radiotherapy and four rounds of chemotherapy. It was tough, but I stayed positive.

The treatment shrank the cancer in my throat, but it didn’t kill it. It has since spread to my ribs, liver, lymph nodes, spine, neck, and throat.

Still, I don’t see myself as a victim of cancer — I see myself as a survivor for as long as I’m here. And I pray every day.

When I was told I was coming to the hospice, I was frightened. I thought hospice meant the end.

But I was wrong.

Galway Hospice is the most alive and peaceful place I’ve ever been. From the moment I arrived, I felt hope and love — unconditional love.

The nurses and doctors are incredible. They don’t just care for you physically — they lift your spirit. They treat you like family. All they want is for you to feel well and to live as fully as you can. I even found out that some of them had known my son, which meant a lot.

My son Kevin died in a house fire in Connemara on June 3 this year. He was a full-time carer for a lovely American lady (Sonia ‘Sunny’ Jacobs), and he gave his life trying to save her.

I use Kevin as my inspiration every night to keep going. I can hear his voice saying:, “Come on, Dad, let’s do what we have to do today.”

He’s my hero.

My faith tells me I’ll meet him again someday, and I’m really looking forward to that. But I have three grandchildren I want to see grow up, and a wife I adore.

Myself and Maureen have been together for twelve years. We always put everything else before getting married — it never seemed the right time. But after Kevin passed and I got my diagnosis, we said:, “You know what, let’s do it.”

We got married on September 3 this year, and it was the most amazing day of my life. I’m a very happily married man.

I also have another son and a daughter, and I’ve loved them unconditionally from the day they were born. Nothing they could ever do would change that.

The care and attention I’ve received here at the hospice are beyond my wildest expectations. I feel loved — and it’s an unconditional love. I don’t have to do anything to earn it. I feel like I’ve won the lottery.

Every person I’ve met here — the nurses, the doctors, the Art Therapist — they’re standing around me, keeping me upright. All they want for me is to be well. That is so life-affirming.

Kathy, the Art Therapist, gave me full access to her art room for the whole weekend. It was an amazing privilege — to be allowed to use somebody’s space like that.

“It’s there — use it,” she said. The freedom of that was incredible.

The grief of losing my son hits me at night. So I walk — up and down the corridor. The nurses wave, they chat, they encourage me.

Then I go to the art room. I’ve gone there every night since I arrived, just making little things. It gives me a chance to feel my grief but not to hide from it.

Grief is important — it keeps me healthy. If I try to bury it, it will make me sick. I let the tears flow. I’m not afraid. I’m not embarrassed.

Galway Hospice is the most life-affirming place I’ve ever been. Every person I meet here reminds me that palliative care isn’t about death. It’s about life — helping people rebuild strength, find comfort, and carry on.

Being here has been the most life-affirming journey of my life.

Ken Kelly died in Galway Hospice on Monday. Predeceased by Kevin, he is sadly missed by his wife Maureen, his children Cúan and Jill, stepson Jonathan, grandchildren, extended family and friends. A service at the Discovery Church on the Tuam Road last Wednesday was followed by his cremation at Shannon Crematorium.

Pictured: Ken Kelly…life-affirming journey.