Last Moments
Surrounded By All
Jay – Rosie’s Dad
Being surrounded by loved ones during one’s final moments can bring immense comfort and peace, helping to complete a life’s journey surrounded by those who matter most. These last goodbyes are often fleeting, making each shared moment invaluable and deeply cherished.
The day I saw my dad not being able to breathe in the ER, I felt overwhelmed with the feeling of helplessness. It was like watching him drown in the ocean gasping for breath, while standing on the pier without any resources to get him out of the water.
As far as finding closure for my dad, I think that his last day on earth probably happened exactly the way he would have wanted. He had been in hospice for only three days.
It was on a Wednesday afternoon when his kids and grandkids all said goodbye in their own ways. He looked at the ceiling and told mom that no one would understand what he was seeing.
Then he asked me to record a video message from him to his family and friends, “I want to thank you all for your prayers, they are helping me so much! I will be well very soon! I love you! I love you all!”
“My body feels like it is sliding,” my father said to the doctor as he walked into check on dad.
“How close is he to leaving us?” I anxiously asked as I followed the doctor out of his room.
He explained with compassion, “He is probably hours away from leaving us. This is a common experience for someone in his condition. People also look towards the ceiling. He is doing that too.”
Dad asked if we could turn his bed 180 degrees to face the window. We moved everyone out of the room, and the nurse and I did just that. He closed his eyes, and he looked peaceful as if he was taking an afternoon nap.
An hour later, Uncle Tom, my dad’s childhood best friend, arrived from Nebraska.
“I think you just missed him; he closed his eyes less than an hour ago,” I told Uncle Tom sadly. He sat on a chair next to my dad. His pain and grief were palpable.
“I should have come earlier,” he repeated over and over. Suddenly, my dad opened his eyes, looked at Uncle Tom, gave him a big smile and said, “I am so glad you came.”
They started a joyful conversation that was filled with memories, laughter, and love.
“Remember the times we used to sneak around and eat junk food?” Uncle Tom asked. “What was our nickname for junk food?” he asked my father.
My dad responded, grinning ear to ear, “It was Hum All, Hum Man, Hum.” He added with the facial expression of a man sitting on a front porch sipping a cold beer and reminiscing about old times.
My dad started telling the story of how they had come up with the nickname, “Do you recall the day? We had six bottles of coke, a handful of Kit-Kat and a big bag of potato chips. Your mom came looking for us and we tried to hold the loot in bags behind us. When she asked what we were holding behind our back, we babbled hum all… hum man… hum... We were trying to figure out whether to lie, run or confess. “Hold your hands up front!” she had demanded. We dropped what was in our hands and ran.”
Looking directly at me with smiles he added “From that moment on, we always referred to junk food as Hum All… Hum Man… Hum...”
Uncle Tom and my dad laughed loudly and talked energetically.
Anyone overhearing their conversation would never believe that one of them was experiencing failing organs and would be dead within minutes of that conversation. After 20 minutes, my dad said he was very tired and closed his eyes.
The nurse turned off the monitor in his room and told us she was monitoring him from her desk and would let us know when he passed. Not knowing how fast his condition was deteriorating, I went to the restroom and took my time to come back to the room, just to get a little break.
When I came back, the nurse was already by his bedside. She looked at me and pronounced matter-of-factly, “he is dead.” I really wanted to scream and say, “I really wanted to be by my dad’s bedside when he passed. “That is why I have not left the hospital for the last two days.” Instead, I just broke down.
To this day, I am mad that I let her turn the monitor off in my father’s room.
I was terrified at the idea of having to bury my dad. In the last ten years of his life, he had begun experiencing claustrophobia. His pulmonologist had shared that the COPD resulting in his difficulty breathing, could in fact be a catalyst for his claustrophobia.
I had to take meds to get through his burial. When he was being lowered into the grave, I wanted to scream, “Stop! My dad is claustrophobic! Please don’t bury him!” But I refrained.
I had been confiding my feelings about burying him with a friend. She eased my anxiety as they lowered his casket into the ground by whispering in my ears, “Your dad’s soul was caged inside his physical body. Remember that he is free and released into the vastness of beauty, love, and peace. They are only burying his physical body which was the cause of his suffering.” I found comfort in those words.
In my wildest dreams, I would not have expected him to die before my mom, as he was such a dedicated and caring husband and truly an exemplary caregiver. Yet he did. He died two years before mom.
Dad’s passing marked the end of an era, leaving behind a legacy and lessons that would continue to guide and inspire me, a tribute to the unbreakable bond we shared and the enduring power of his love.
A Family United in Florida
Albert and His Family’s Story
Albert’s family gathered around the dinner table, the silence punctuated by the clinking of cutlery and the occasional cough. As children, Heather, Abram, Carley, and Ben had fought incessantly, but their grandparents’ home had always been a sanctuary. Now, with Albert’s heart attack, the unspoken glue that held them together was tested.
When the news of Albert’s condition broke, it was as if an invisible thread tugged at each of them. Abram and Carley dropped everything in California, Heather hurried from New York, and Ben rushed in from Texas. It was the first time they had all been together in years. The sight of their frail grandfather, surrounded by machines, brought a cold reality. Their petty squabbles dissolved in the sterile hospital air.
The family barely had time to breathe before another blow hit—Mabel suffered a stroke. The weight of possibly losing both grandparents within days was a weight too heavy to bear alone. The hospital waiting room became their second home, filled with whispered memories of fond moments spent at their grandparent’s home and shared vigil.
One quiet evening, as Heather sat by Mabel’s side, her eyes fluttered open, and with a weak voice, she whispered, “My only wish is for you all to get along.” The words struck a chord. It wasn’t just a request; it was a plea.
Later that night, the grandchildren gathered in the dimly lit waiting room, the gravity of Mabel’s plea settling in. Abram broke the silence. “We owe it to Grandma. We need to honor her wish.”
Ben’s voice was soft but resolute. “We might not have much time left. We need to be together for them.”
From that moment, a subtle but profound shift occurred. They supported each other through tears and found solace in shared laughter about their childhood. As Albert’s and Mabel’s conditions worsened, the family stood united, a small comfort in the face of impending loss.
When the end finally came, they were all there, holding hands around their grandparents’ bedside. The pain of loss was palpable, but so was the strength of their renewed bond. They left the hospital, not just mourning Albert and Mabel, but carrying a piece of their grandparents’ legacy—their wish for unity, finally fulfilled.
By His Side
Mark, Arlene, and Elton’s Story
Elton was a fighter, but as cancer spread through his body, the fight became harder. Mark, a computer programmer at Google, and Arlene, a doctor at a local hospital, knew the prognosis was bleak. Despite their demanding careers, they made the decision to be by their father’s side.
The hospital room became their office and home. Mark brought his laptop, trying to balance work with being present. Arlene used her medical knowledge to understand the treatments and care for her father. Elton was glad to have his children close, even as his strength waned.
“Arlene, do you remember the camping trip when you were ten?” Elton asked one afternoon, his voice weak but clear.
Arlene smiled. “Of course, Dad. You taught us how to build a fire. Mark got so frustrated when his wood wouldn’t catch.”
Mark chuckled, looking up from his screen. “Yeah, and then you showed me the trick. It grew as big as a bonfire.”
Elton’s eyes sparkled with the memory. “Those were good times. I want you two to have more good times together.”
Arlene nodded, tears welling up. “We will, Dad. We promise.”
As the days passed, Elton’s condition deteriorated. The siblings found comfort in each other’s company. They reminisced about family vacations, holidays, and the lessons their father had taught them. They also planned for the future, discussing how they could support each other once he was gone.
One evening, Elton struggled to breathe. The nurse adjusted his oxygen, but it was clear the end was near. Mark held his father’s hand. “We’re here, Dad. We’re right here.”
Elton’s eyes fluttered open. “I love you both. Don’t forget that.”
“We love you too, Dad,” Arlene whispered, her voice breaking.
Elton gave a faint smile before closing his eyes one last time. The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the monitors. The nurse quietly stepped in and confirmed what they already knew. He was gone.
Mark and Arlene hugged each other tightly. The pain of losing their father was immense, but they took solace in knowing they had been there for him, fulfilling his final wish to be surrounded by his children. Their bond, strengthened by this experience, would carry them forward in the days to come.
