My father, at one point, imagined himself on a Greek island. “Ouzo!” He’d offer from his hospital bed.
He was an avid fisherman and his last words were, distinctly, “Big fish.”
Yet, he was mostly unconscious for his last day. I spent time talking with him as he slept, massaging his hands and feet. Later we had a party for him and played music. Around 10 at night he began to die (the breathing changes). At the very end he opened his eyes, looked at my mother, sister and me, and passed.
Had a really similar experience with my dad, the only difference was that he was calling for his mom (that passed away many many years before) in the language of the country he was born.
It was a really touching thing that I'll never forget.
I wish my dad could have had the same experience. My parents were in denial the whole last few months, so he ended up passing away basically by himself in another state, with a relative whom he didn't like by his side. He had a similar experience of waking one last time and looking around, then passing. Such a terrible shame he didn't see any of his immediate family.
Sounds perfect, I'm so pleased you and your family were able to have this. I'm sorry for your loss, but hope this pleasant passing brought you comfort.
My father (83yo) died a year ago - just before Xmas. Most of the family got to see him the day before he died and he was in good spirits as we were all preparing for xmas together. He woke about 5am and asked my mother and brother for help getting to the toilet (which was unlike him). Once he was back in bed he rolled over, let out a sigh, and my mother thinks that is the moment he passed. 30 minutes later he was cold and couldn't be revived. I am still sad I wasn't able to say goodbye while he was conscious and always imagined we'd be talking to him in the period of his death - but equally, dying at home, in your own bed, seems so comforting and comfortable.
He was an avid fisherman and his last words were, distinctly, “Big fish.”
Yet, he was mostly unconscious for his last day. I spent time talking with him as he slept, massaging his hands and feet. Later we had a party for him and played music. Around 10 at night he began to die (the breathing changes). At the very end he opened his eyes, looked at my mother, sister and me, and passed.
It was a beautiful death.