I was in town when my dad died in palliative care. I got the call when he died and got to the hospital in time to give him (his corpse) a kiss on the forehead, and say goodbye. I was in the incinerator when he was cremated. I saw it all.
Mum died in November. I never made it back home to see her, also in palliative care.
ETA: I voted that I was there and it was a good thing. But I wasn’t really in the room right at the time of death.
I lost my mother in February and this was pretty much how it went. The woman who raised me began to go twenty years earlier (stroke related dementia). By the time of her passing, she wasn’t conscious or responsive. Nevertheless, she went with my dad, me and two of my sisters by her side and in the four days previous, a host of family and friends in and out.
I, my mother and 2 of my brothers were there when our dad died. Our other brother had left maybe 10 minutes before to make the 5 minute walk to his house.
I’m glad I was there: our mother had already spoken to me about needing to call hospice when he went - we knew it was coming, since he’d come home from the hospital,under hospice care ~6 weeks before, and 3 days prior had pulled his feeding tube out and he and mom had chosen not to have it replaced, knowing what it meant. I’m glad my siblings were able to be there, or had been there just before as well, and I think they’d say the same.
Knock on wood, neither have ever died yet. So I can’t for any of the poll options.
I was in my bedroom sleeping when my dad died. I was too young to have any say in where I was.
When my mother died, we had been on about “speaking five minutes every other month” terms, so at least me being far away made it more peaceful for her.
My mother died two months ago today.
She suffered sudden and severe brain damage due to sepsis (a massive infection that reached her brain), and even though I was by her side for five days she was unconscious the entire time. I never got to say goodbye or tell her one last time that I love her…she never even knew I was there. After she became comatose and my brother and I decided to remove life support, they moved her from the ICU to a palliative care floor. At first I wouldn’t leave her room, but after more than 36 hours of being at the hospital and mostly awake I finally drove home for a bit (I lived an hour away and needed to pick my dog up from the kennel, try to sleep a little, take a shower, etc.). I was going to drive back early the next morning, but she died 6-7 hours after I left. She simply stopped breathing. Thankfully, my brother was there. I was back at the hospital within 90 minutes of her last breath, but I missed the doctor coming in to pronounce her.
Part of me does wish I had been there (so I chose “no and it’s a bad thing”). That was my intent when I stayed for so long. But then I started thinking that she might hang on for another day or two, and I started to really need a shower and some sleep, so I left. But it’s not something that bothers me: there wouldn’t have been any last words or farewells, and she wasn’t alone.
I struggle with many things related to her death, but not being there at the end (mercifully) isn’t one of them.
I was there for both. Mum died in June 2014, and dad this September. Both from cancer. It was very, very sad watching them die, but I am very glad that I was able to be there with them. I think I would have regretted it for the rest of my life if I hadn’t been there.
I haven’t lost any parents, so I didn’t vote.
I was there just after my grandfather died at home. He was still warm and I started resuscitation, (knowing it wasn’t going to work, but feeling I had to try something). The fire department arrived seconds later and they took over. I drove in the police car with my Grandmother, while my mom followed us in her car. I don’t regret being there, but I was not particularly close to this set of grandparents, so emotionally I was on autopilot and helping others get through it.
For my other grandfather (a month and 2 days after the first) we had been at the hospital, and all went home to have supper/ etc, and drop my grandmother home for the night, while I stayed with her. Five minutes after walking in the door the hospital phoned and told us Grandpa had passed. I was sorry he died alone, but I wasn’t sorry that Grandma wasn’t there.
Third grandmother I was there. I knew she was going, and I was settled in to be with her while Dad went home and got some sleep. She passed away while I was holding her hand dozing in a chair beside her. I was glad I was there, I was with her many other tough times in her life.
I’m a nurse and I work in seniors care. Palliative care is special. Enjoy isn’t the right word, but it gives me deep satisfaction to be with someone in their final moments, and to support the family and loved ones.
My mom’s death was very peaceful and I could only be grateful that she was dying for only a short time. I am crushed for myself, but I am happy that we got to talk on the phone on the days leading up to it (I didn’t go out right away because they had given her more time than she ended up having) and that I was there to see her and chat like nothing was wrong, and see her comfortably fall asleep and not wake up.
Like the OP, I had always thought this would be unimaginable, that I would crumple into a heaving mass and break down in every way. I was amazed at the peace and quiet dignity of it and that I am comforted by her getting to live her life and die how she wanted.
I do regret leaving the room after she died but before they came in and pronounced her dead. I still have dreams that I don’t know for sure if she’s dead.