Mum had been a nurse herself. She’d lived a life of service, helping others. And at Keech, that was recognised. She wasn’t just looked after—she was heard. Staff took the time to listen to her stories. She felt seen, valued and understood. That mattered.
Her last weeks were spent not just in comfort, but in peace. Mum had control. Her pain was managed, she was clean and safe—and still very much herself. Keech helped her live well, right to the end. And when her final moments came, she died the way anyone would wish for—with dignity, surrounded by love.
What surprised me most was the atmosphere. I’d imagined something clinical. Instead, the rooms were light and welcoming, the doors opened onto peaceful gardens, and we never felt far away from Mum. My brother, sister-in-law and I could sit with her, pop out for air, and come back in without ever losing that connection. It felt like home, but with all the care we didn’t know we needed.
Keech made the hardest days bearable. They gave us time—time to talk, laugh, cry, and say what we needed to say. Even after Mum died, the support didn’t stop. Keech stayed with us, guiding us through our grief with care and kindness.
Since then, we’ve raised funds in Mum’s memory. I’m even planning a trek later this year—for her, and for the families who’ll need Keech next.
If Mum were here, she’d say the care was second to none. And she’d be right. Keech really did wrap my whole family in care. And we’ll never forget that.
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