I was there when my father was pronounced dead, although by the time I reached the hospital he was unresponsive.
I never got a chance for “last words” and I so regret it. I’d give all I own, walk out of the house in my bare hide, if I could have him back. He shouldn’t have been killed like that.
I, and most of the family were there when my mom had an aneurysm and died relatively instantly in a restaurant. It was a good thing.
I was not there when my dad died. It was bad because my stupid brother came into my dorm room and woke me up at about 4 AM with just “There’s been an accident” and “Dad”. So of course my mind didn’t go to “he is dead” until much later when I freaking overheard a phone conversation about it. Oh and how it was a murder. Which is not an accident at all.
I’m counting “by his side” even though at the exact moment I wasn’t by the bedside. But I’d moved back specifically to help care for him (among other reasons: dying father + employer wanting me to work without a permit + boyfriend who I really liked but didn’t communicate well with = Nava goes back home).
I’m glad I did move back, because there are things that came up during that year and a half which wouldn’t have otherwise. But sometimes I find myself wondering What If… on the people I left behind by moving back.
My father died last month.
While I wasn’t by his side at the exact moment he died, I spend a lot of time with him after his cancer diagnosis and pretty much stayed with him in the hospital full-time in the last couple of weeks before his death.
I was there for his last moment of consciouness and we did have the chance for a final good-bye.
Yes, it was a good thing, even if it still hurts like hell. We were very very close.
Both my parents are gone now. Mom died in 2008 and had long been dealing with diabetes and eventually cancer. She fell several times and could not get up, even with Dad’s help. Finally, after being moved from the ER to a regular bed, the Dr suggested she go to a convalescent hospital, where she eventually was placed on hospice care. I visited daily, but was at work when they called me. Dad and me met outside her room to say goodbye. For her I was not there at the time of her dying, but I had already said good bye and that I love her and we were all going to be OK. I paid her one last visit - I saw her lifeless body.
Dad died in 2011 after a long battle with diabetes and other illnesses. He had called for help from the place he was living, which brought him to the hospital. He went from ER to ICU. My wife and I were there to see him hooked-up to a hundred tubes and wires. He was already pretty much gone by then. The doctors called us into a room for a meeting to determine what to do next - continue extending his life, or let him go. We said to take all the tubes out and start the morphine drip. We went to sit outside and about 90 minutes later he was gone, too. I went to see him and pat him on the shoulder, still warm, and to tell him thanks and I love him. While I was not next to him at the moment of his last breath, I suppose I was “there”.
The above are the only two times in my life I have seen a dead person, in person. Both times my own parents. Still hurting to this day.
Another non-vote. It was neither good nor bad. I had already said my goodbyes, having foreknowledge of their illnesses and decline. I was overseas when they died, with no hope of getting back for funerals or last words. I’m okay with that.
I was able to get back the day before my sister passed a couple of years ago, however, and am eternally grateful that I got to speak with her again and hold her hand before she died.
I didn’t vote.
I wasn’t there for Dad. I lived across the country and was planning to visit him in the hospital in a couple days as his cancer had been accelerating. It got him a few days before anyone expected. At least his wife was there with him.
I was there for Mom, sorta. She had her final heart attack a few minutes before I got to where we were meeting for lunch. I showed up the same time as the paramedics. Which was quite a rude surprise for me. And her no doubt.
She wasn’t legally dead until she’d been transported to the hospital and they’d worked on her for another 45 minutes while I got to watch. But for all practical purposes she was dead before I arrived.
So I’ve had one more-or-less expected death, and one more-or-less bolt-from-the-blue death. Neither was a good experience in toto.
My last communications with each of them were good and we had no outstanding issues. I don’t know that I could say being there, or being there differently, or not being there at all would have changed much. IME the moment of transition from alive to dead is the least important part of the whole process. Though it’s certainly a dramatic & traumatic moment.
Dealing with the anticipation ahead of time, and dealing with the loss and other consequences afterwards are the bigger deals.
Merry Christmas to all. And their surviving parents.
It was neither here nor there so I didn’t vote. Both of my parents died while I was in Europe to attend a meeting. When my father died unexpectedly I cut short my trip to be with and comfort my mother. Fast forward 20 years and my mother died on another trip. She had been going for months, was no longer really conscious (she mumbled constantly, but was rehashing old memories) and I had said my goodbyes. I went on my trip knowing she might die. What actually happened was that the second time she got pneumonia my step-father declined to authorize vacuuming her lungs because she had experienced–or seemed to experience–so much discomfort the first time and she died peacefully. So i continued my trip and went to my meeting. My step-father was very angry with me. Well, he is gone too and I have no regrets.
I wasn’t there, but it was neither good nor bad. I had seen him a week before and had a chance to say goodbye. I knew that I wouldn’t be seeing him again, and made peace at that point.
Both of my parents died slowly of cancer. We were there to tend to their needs. Whatever trama we went through was better than what they went through. It’s so small a repayment for what we received that it was never an issue.
My father passed many years ago my regret is that at that time I had not met my wife so he never knew her or his fantastic grandchildren, but my mother and I were both there for him. My mother passed many years later surrounded by family my sister and I talked of when we were children and what we got up to when mother was not looking, my sisters boys had brought a keyboard and we sung mothers favourite hymns. She passed with a smile on her face aged 83
I was traveling from the airport to the hospice where my father was dying of lung cancer. I was feeling very conflicted because we has never been close and my father was a pretty big jerk, so I didn’t really want to have some big emotional scene at his death bed. So when I received the call that he had already dies, I felt greatly relief. I had done my duty by rushing from Tucson to northern California to be with him, but I hadn’t made it in time, despite diligent effort. I didn’t have to deal with a horribly uncomfortable final scene with him, so I think it worked out for the best.
I suppose I could have worded the options better, like maybe “I’m glad I was there” or “I wish I wasn’t there” or “I didn’t really care if I was there or not, it made no difference”.
Some posters seem to be taking the question how I’m not intending it. It’s mostly “if you weren’t there, would you have chosen to be if you could?” and “if you were, would you choose to be there or not if you had to do it over?”
Obviously death isn’t ever a “good” thing and most, as has been said here, have no opinion on it…so in those cases, think about this: Okay, so you were or weren’t there. Well, some magical being is going to come along and make it the opposite of what it was. Do you care enough to protest or are you indifferent?
I try to live my life with minimal unfinished business with people. I have made it clear to those I love that I do love them, and if they wish me there at the end I will do what I can to make it happen.
Dead is dead whether I am there or not. If I can ease a person’s passing that is both an obligation and a gift, a burden and a blessing, and I’ll take that on however much it hurts because it is not only right but leaves my spirit at peace. If I can’t… well, I have my limitations. I am also at peace with that.
I have seen people dead, and I have seen people die. I don’t feel a need to see that ever again, but neither do I fear doing so.
I’m pretty much with Broomstick.
I’ve been going to funerals all my life, mostly for extended family. I’ve been there or very nearby when both of my maternal grandparents died, buried a brother and a couple of friends. It always used to sort of surprise me when someone I know said they’ve never had to deal with death directly before, never been to a funeral or seen a dead body or whatever. That doesn’t seem to happen anymore though.
I can’t honestly say that it would make any difference to me either way, being there or not. To me the important stuff all happens before and after.
I was one of the few people who was there and it was a bad thing. My father dropped dead at age 57 of a heart attack. He died right on front of me. I was 24 years old. My being there didn’t do him any good and traumatized me for a long time.
My last conversation with my dad;
Me: I love you, Dad.
Dad: I love you too.
Couldn’t ask for more than that.
Small note: two parents.
Dad I was not there the moment he died but soon before and it was clear that it would be sometime soon. My visit was my good bye visit but I am not sure he at that point was able to hear my good bye. He did not die alone. Mom and my brother were there.
For Mom I had just gotten home from visiting her in a hospice setting and was called back. Three of the five of us sibs were present. Christmas Day it was actually, which being Jewish only meant no work next day and makes it easy to remember when.
In each case I was glad to have been able to be there to the degree I was. I don’t regret missing the exact moment with my father as I had said what I needed to say when he was still able to hear it, had just been there, and he was not alone.
Neither though was unexpected and in each case death was not a bad option compared to what living more was going to be.
Being there for an expected death is a chance for closure. Being there for an unexpected death from apparent wellness, like Helena330’s circumstance? I can scarcely imagine how horrible it must have been. But still, to the degree my Dad would have been aware of what was happening I would not prefer the alternative of him dying alone.
When it is my time I could only hope for what River Hippie’s Dad got.
I was there, holding my father’s hand when he passed. He had been ill for some time and earlier that day had elected to have his breathing tube removed.
I think if it had been a sudden event, it would have been better if I had not been there.
My dad died in October. He was 90, and a decade of Parkinson’s, on top of normal old-age frailty, finally took its final toll.
I wasn’t there when he passed, but I had been there the day before, and was planning to come over the day after. He was receiving hospice care, and had been unresponsive for days; it was just a matter of time.
I didn’t vote because it was neither a good thing nor a bad thing that I wasn’t there with him when he breathed his last. He was already all but gone; I’d already said my farewells.