I wasn’t there, and it was a good thing. At age 16 I had no business whatsoever being in an operating room in a hospital.
I was not there when either of my own parents died and I do not have any regrets. My husband’s Dad passed in his sleep one night. A charmed exit, in my opinion, we should all be so lucky.
His Mom suffered a stroke that left her fully bedridden, we bought a house and brought her into our own little nursing home. I was her primary caregiver. I loved her, dearly, she was a feisty woman. For six long years we made our way, it wasn’t ever easy, but we still laughed and carried on.
And then the turn came, and it got much harder. I always knew how it would end, but, well, you cannot really be prepared I think. The Dr came in and the nurses and they all agreed, “It won’t be long now.” For ten of the longest weeks of my life I did not leave the house, barely left her side. She seemed to slip away in the tiniest degrees. Everyone that came round, for their final visits, looked to me to explain why she was still alive, as the weeks wore on. All I could say was that it wasn’t yet her time. That she was waiting for the perfect moment no doubt.
Those last weeks were a circle of hell, her breathing so laboured, unable to speak. But I knew she was still in there and I just kept holding her hand and talking to her like always. I could still see her eyes sparkle.
Then we HAD to leave the house, for an appointment with a doctor I’d waited months to see. We were gone less than 30 mins. My last words to her were, “Now don’t you leave while I’m away!”
But she did. I knew the moment we came home. I was crushed that her perfect moment was when I was away from her side.
The Dr assured me it often happens just this way. I didn’t want her to die alone. Someone reminded me we all, die alone. But for those first few horrible days it was truly shattering to me.
I find I am unable to answer your question. I wanted to be there for her so badly. But, at the same time, I’m not sure that’s what she wanted. Sigh
Nope. I was an ocean way. She died in Geneva, and I was in Lima. I was two years old and had not seen her since I was six months old. Her mother and sister raised me for the first five years of my life. I wasn’t told that she was gone until I was seven. I’m still a little confused as to who I actually thought was my mother for that time period. She went into a coma while having an asthma attack, and a month later the decision was made to take her off of life support. She was 21 years old.
I was there for Mom, which was a good thing. She had been in the hospital for some time. Dad had a long time at the hospital too but I wasn’t there when he passed. He had a final stroke quite late in the evening and my uncle drove me down. I stayed for a while and then was told I should go home and get some rest. Good luck with that! I was staying at my mom’s because she had a bad case of flu and I was also nine months pregnant. Dad passed very early the next morning and we got the word by phone. I spent that day running around town, mostly on foot, in the August heat. Not surprisingly, I went into lab our and had my son at 3:45 am, not quite twenty-four hours after Dad left us. So, kinda bad but to busy to worry about it!
I took my mother to the hospital on a Thursday afternoon. Her cancer had spread and we knew she didn’t have much time. Except to eat and use the restroom, I was by her side till Sunday evening when I went home to shower and get some sleep. My brother woke me up about 2 am Monday to let me know our mother was gone. I feel I did all I could do. She was in a better place and wasn’t suffering anymore.
My second mother in law passed away on a Thursday morning. The nursing home didn’t call till 3 am Friday. My ex and I had no idea the end was so close. The part about this that really pissed me off was someone gave her a manicure and pedicure Wednesday afternoon, they claimed she asked for it. When I last saw her Wednesday morning, she had not idea anyone was there, she was pretty much a vegetable then. We were sued by the manicurist, the bill had gone from $55 to over $600. It took me about 30 seconds with the judge for him to toss the case. The nursing home claimed they thought my MIL was asleep, that is why they didn’t notify us till they did.
I didn’t vote because it was not a good or a bad thing. It was just something that happened.
My father died of leukemia and I was there for the year it took for the cancer to win. He had been extremely abusive to all of us, but had mellowed a little in the end. He never did apologize or anything, though. There wasn’t any closure.
He was sick for over a year and knew he was dying, but didn’t even say that he loved us.
Looking back, I don’t know if it was good or not. Maybe good in that I know for sure that he never changed and if I hadn’t have been there, maybe I would always wonder if things may have been different if I had been there.
My Dad died in March.
I voted wasn’t there, but I was close. He was in palliative care and kept under by painkillers, as had been his desire. The week before we’d said goodbye. He told us to take care of each other. It was what he wanted and summed his life up. Then he slipped away.
The night he died my sister called me to come (three hour drive) because she knew the end wa near, so I did. I arrived about 10 pm and after an hour offered to take the graveyard shift. I sat with Dad until 4. I talked to him and told him jokes and how much I loved him. I promised him I’d take care of his granddaughters. Perhaps he understood. Perhaps not. I had to say it.
My sister took the 4 am shift and I went back to my parents’ to sleep. He died at 7 am. So I technically was not immediately there, but close enough to rate it good.
I very much miss him. I don’t really have anyone to talk to about it. My sister and mother make every conversation about themselves and my wife figures she didn’t have a good relationship with her dad so I shouldn’t be sad. So I guess that’s that.
My dad died in January. He was 84, and his health had not been great, but we all had expected him to live for quite a while. Then one morning he apparently lost consciousness and fell in the bathroom. He broke his hip. He went to the hospital, and although his condition was not great and his lucidity was poor at times, we still thought he would come home. He had surgery on his hip and went on a ventilator and never came back around.
My mom, my brothers, and I were all in the room when he died. The last few hours were pretty bad. I don’t think his pain was very well controlled. I’m glad we were all there. I hope our being there gave him some comfort.
I was in a rural part of the Czech Republic when I got word that I should get to Nevada as soon as possible to see my Dad. It was about 3pm and I made it back to Prague by about 10pm. I was on a train to Dresden by 3am, then connected to Frankfurt (they held my connecting train for about 1 minute as I ran). From there I flew to Washington DC, San Francisco (delayed, and finally arrived at 2:30am), then to Reno on a 6am flight. I arrived about 3 hours after he passed.
This is not an easy one to answer. My dad died April 2014, when his tractor rolled over on him. I was right behind him and saw the whole thing. It’s bad because it happened suddenly, and only two days after my mom’s 70th birthday. I blamed myself for a while because the only reason he was on the tractor was because I came home for the weekend to help out around the farm.
It’s also good that I was there, because if he had been alone working it would have been hours before anyone found him. It took the EMT’s and coroner almost three hours to get him off the hill. My mom was a complete wreck, that September would have been their 50th anniversary. I was lucky to have plenty of leave and was able to stay with her for three weeks.
Like I said, not an easy question to answer.
Both my parents died after long illnesses and I was present for both deaths. My dad’s death was hard as I was only 13 years old and had not previously seen anyone pass. My mother was ready to go and had been suffering terribly. Her passing was a blessing and a mercy. She took her last breath just as the sun was rising and her room was filled with light. It was a sad, but beautiful moment.
In restrospect, I am happy to have been present to say goodbye to both.
I don’t know. The answer is “No” and I would lean towards “it’s a good thing”, but I have little experience other than this one sudden tragic event.
My mother passed 18 years ago. She had had a stroke and was no longer talking. I was expecting my first child at the time. My sisters were adamant that I go to the house and rest, and I was adamant that I stay at the hospital. My father, who refused to leave my mother’s side, finally told my sisters to leave me alone and let me do what I needed to do. So I stayed with my parents. I read to her; I fetched coffee for him. Whatever. I was asleep when she passed, but I woke up immediately when my father told me she was gone.
I wouldn’t have done anything differently.
The most emotionally wrenching part of my mom’s passing was when she was in hospice and still all there mentally. I was in the room when she picked up the phone and called her sisters in law. My dad died about ten years earlier but my mom stayed in touch with his sisters, women that she had known and loved almost her whole life. Hearing them say goodbye for the last time wrung tears out of me like nothing else ever has.
This and Trinopus’ post #8 are gonna haunt me for a while.
I don’t know if it was a good or bad thing, but I wasn’t there. Dad died very suddenly (we knew he wasn’t long for, but I literally got a call from my mom saying he wasn’t going to make it through the night), so by the time I hustled my ass on a flight from Chicago and sat in traffic for what felt like 100 years from LAX to home, he was already gone.
I like to say I wish I’d been there, but I don’t think I’d have been emotionally capable of watching him die. Hell, I took some of his stuff back home with me, and I can’t even touch it without breaking down in a fit crying. I smelled his sweater, and it still smelled like him, which caused me to completely lose my shit. Just when I thought I had my shit together, I realized nope!
So no, I wasn’t there, but I wish I had been. Except that I don’t.
I’ve seen several people die:
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Back in 2002 when we had to unplug my brother-in-law from life support. He had suffered a major stroke a few weeks earlier, which turned out to be locked-in symdrome (he was paralyzed from the nose down).
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Back in 2007 when my brother passed (he died from brain cancer).
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In 2012 when my mom passed (she was on a respirator) and that was pretty much the only thing keeping her alive.
I will probably be there for another death soon: my twin sister has stage four breast cancer and she’s on borrowed time. That will be the most difficult as we are very close. I’ll probably be a basket case when that happens.
I didn’t vote, as I’m not sure how I feel about being there. I was glad I was there so they didn’t die alone, but I wouldn’t wish the experience on my worst enemy.
And when I die, I hope no one is there. I’d hate to put someone through that. I can still remember each instance so clearly.
I had two parents, different answers.
Dad died when I was living in a remote village in Bolivia, it was weeks before I even learned about it. Old age, died peacefully at home in his sleep. All good.
Mom died in my back bedroom, after I moved her out of a nursing home. Also, of old age in her sleep. She lived her last days with the comforting peace of mind that I’d be the last person she’d see in her life, and the first person to see her in death. In the morning when she did not wake up, I called the authorities. All good.
I wasn’t there for my dad. Long, protracted illness; he died at home in Houston and I was living in Anglleton at the time.
For my mom, kinda sorta. She’d finally run out of steam and had her third stroke, We went to the hospital and sat with her for a couple of hours that evening. The hospital called us at about 0530 the next morning to say she had died.
I was not in the room for either of my parents’ death, but I had come to town and was there shortly after.
My mother had had one too many insulin shock episodes and was effectively brain-dead before I was notified. I rushed to town and we did something of a vigil in the hospital, but there was no telling when she would actually pass. So my father and I went back to his house for dinner, while my sister and her husband stayed on. They were there when she died, and we rushed back but too late of course.
Several years later, my father went to the hospital and was diagnosed with several things including an enlarged heart and pneumonia, and he was too weak to fight it. I made it into town while he was still conscious but he had a “no extreme measures” order in place so that night he was moved to hospice. We spent some time at the hospice that evening but I went back to my motel and he died in his sleep that night.
So in my mother’s case I did not have the chance to say anything, and I would call that a “not there, wish I had been” for the purposes of the poll. In my father’s case I was able to speak to him before he died, so even though I wasn’t in the room when he died I would count that as “was there, glad I was able to be there” for the poll. But since it’s split, I can’t really vote meaningfully.