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Passing away...personal experiences

Last June my Mom died unexpectedly of a heart attack at 57...

My mom died the exact same way. Sudden heart attack at age 54.

That was all bad.

My mom died of a heart attack at 57 as well. She died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. I just turned 50 in March, so I am kinda nervous these days.

I was with my niece Sharon when she died in the hospital, me and her daughter Barbie were holding her hands as she passed.

:(

My dad was a bit older (65), and I was 22, when he died of a heart attack. He had had heart surgery surgery go wrong 5 weeks earlier, but my parents chose not to tell me of the complications, so I was completely shocked when he died suddenly (to me) in his favorite chair.

I wanted to visit my dad when he was in the hospital, but he told me to concentrate on my studies and stay up North. I really, really regret obeying my father in this instance. I still can't fathom how my parents carried the knowledge that his death was imminent for 5 fucking weeks without letting it slip to anyone.
 
I was with my mother when she died; it was like watching her empty out of all that made her my mother. I was with my brother, too...he just smiled and left us. Nobody would come and get me when my sister died; I was devastated that I hadn't been there, and my father simply went to sleep in his chair and never woke up; his wife left it to my niece to tell me. I wish I had been able to be there, too.

That's my entire family, so now I have only myself to go.
 
Mother smiled as she passed this made me angry so I would not weep at the funeral. circa 1975.
Father was gone before he was gone and going was something that was keep from me while i was in the hospital myself since I had the final say in what would be fathers end I ended there while he passed. circa 1985
Soon others in my life are coming and going; like friends and such; they are more difficult to see go at times.
My life is endless IMHO because I will not remember my death nor do I remember my birth, too easily without aids like pictures and such.
I still comfort where I can and it is possible, others that need it.
 
My grandfather passed away a couple of weeks ago. He spent the last month of his life in the Intensive Care Unit, not really aware of anything around him. The doctors said his brain was sort of "erased" and whenever he opened his eyes, he looked and acted like a baby (smiling and laughing at colorful things and sounds etc.) Still, at times I am sure he recognized his children. He tried to speak but could not and resolved to gestures.

So, even though his death saddened me, I sort of found it a good ending. I don't believe in afterlife and I am sure that my grandfather would be miserable if he was aware of himself but could not speak or get out of his bed.

He looked so peaceful on his funeral day, I could not cry, only smile at how peaceful he looked (and different, without his mustache that had been shaved by the nurses at the hospital)...
 
My mother was alone with my grandmother when she past and has a beautiful story. She witnessed her last breath and her spirit was released. The very next thing seesaw was my grandmother as a young woman standing on the opposite side of the bed. Without moving her lips, she heard her say it was time for my mother to go. She heard a voice call my grandmother's name and an arm reach out from the air as if someone pulled back a curtain. And she was gone. My mother always describes it as being a moment of beauty, love and peace.

I ask folks here to also keep my sister in your thoughts and prayers as she learned this past Tuesday she has a metastasis tumor that has grown into the lung partially collapsing it and breaking a rib. They also found growths in her other lung and adrenal glands. She is only 47 and married with an 11 year old daughter. Needless to say, this is a very big blow.

Thank you.
 
My mother. She had been ill, and my dad was unable to wake her. She was still breathing when I arrived minutes later and it felt like she waited until I was there to stop breathing. I tried to do CPR, but it failed.

I am entirely certain that mom did not leave until I was there to take care of dad. She was like that.. always taking care of dad first.

I would have been more prepared had my parents not kept her medical condition a secret from the kids (that she had lungemphasema and had a history of strokes)..
 
Death of a loved one is always trying. One because we are losing a part of ourlives..and ourselves. Two becuase it reminds us of our own mortality.

One source of comfort I tell people when they have lost a loved one, especially to terminal illnesses is this:

They (the deceased) are no longer in pain..they are at peace. And if they had the chance to contact you they would tell you this:

"dont suffer anymore over my loss...I am at peace. No pain no suffering, no want, no desire. Yet your lamentation over my loss grieves me. So stop suffering by mourning my death, but rather rejoice by celebrating what was my life."
 
My Dad passed away from a heart attack when I was 17 and my mother died 5 years later when I was 22. Too young to have both parents gone. I was not there when either of them passed away.

But I went on to work as an aide in a nursing home for many years and was with many of them when they died.
 
Death is a funny old thing. I've been present at enough deaths, and been the one confirming death at many more, to know it's a bizarre transition. Sometimes it's a definite, abrupt change; other times it's gradual and insiduous. It's the one thing I feel I can't quite get my head around, conceptually. The transition from life to death remains... confusing. Epicurus pointed out that death itself isn't something to fear (it's the before and after that's the problem) but while true, it has a little too much of the "it's not the falling, but hitting the ground" about it to be truly reassuring. Still, I rather try to remember the concept.

Funnily enough, I was mulling over this very thing while sitting in the Piazza Navona a couple of days ago, watching the world go by in the bright sunshine. All these people from all over the world, visiting Rome on holiday like me, and why? What were they really achieving, what was the fundamental meaning of all this travel and pseudo-pilgrimage? It reminded me of the concept of "bucket lists" and their wistful attempt to apply some quantitative criteria of significance or meaning to life. Is it really enough?

It's a very human thing to want to be able to say they achieved something in life, even it's only to have been happy. People talk about the importance of "a good death", sometimes equating it to a painless sudden death at an advanced age. But I rather think it's more about achieving a sense of acceptance about death: what Erikson would term having enough Ego Integrity to no longer give death a sense of importance in their life.
 
Death is [...] the one thing I feel I can't quite get my head around, conceptually. The transition from life to death remains... confusing. Epicurus pointed out that death itself isn't something to fear (it's the before and after that's the problem) but while true, it has a little too much of the "it's not the falling, but hitting the ground" about it to be truly reassuring. Still, I rather try to remember the concept.

A perspective which I like is that you can't be aware of your own non-existence. And if death is a passage to non existence, then you'll be aware upto the point of death, and then nothing. And however long you don't exist for after death, you won't be aware of any of the time that passes. But when the conditions are right to recreate some fragment of your consciousness, you will exist again, and it will appear to you as if no time has passed since you curled up your toes.

From your own perspective, you cannot not exist. From your own perspective, you will always exist.

We might expect existence after death be likened to a series random flashes, corresponding to the uncountable number of times that conditions are momentarily right, to recreate some fragment of your consciousness, somewhere in the cosmos. :)

Whether that torrent of random flashes will be pleasurable or painful, I've leave to you to fathom, as you know more about how minds work than I do :p
 
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My Grandpa Phil's passing was a very eerie thing for me. He had been in the nursing home with complications from many ailments, and it was generally thought that he would not be able to return home.

I was home from college for a weekend, specifically to visit him. Friday and Saturday's visits went fine. Sunday's did not. He was not himself, did not recognize me, and had clearly gone downhill over night. Fearing the worst, with the blessing of the duty nurse, I summoned my parents and sister to his bedside. Now, this was before the proliferation of cell phones. I was able to call my folks from the nurse's station, but I had to leave the building to get my sister from her work.

By the time I returned, his pastor had come and gone, and he was breathing heavily. Grandpa and the town Catholic priest were good friends, and Father had been summoned as well. He came, gave the abbreviated version of the Last Rites (as can be given to a Protestant), whispered something in Grandpa's ear, and then left. Over the next 30 minutes, Grandpa's breathing became more and more labored.

My Mother, realizing that her Dad was about to die, sent my Dad and I to get the nurse. Before I could return (Dad got back before me), it was over. My Grandpa had passed through the veil between this world and the next, and nothing could be done.

While there is a part of me that wishes I could have been in the room at the moment, it's more important to me that I was there for most of that afternoon, as well as that my Dad got back to the room to be with Mom at the moment of Grandpa's passing.
 
Death is a funny old thing...(edit)...But I rather think it's more about achieving a sense of acceptance about death: what Erikson would term having enough Ego Integrity to no longer give death a sense of importance in their life.

Great original post. And thank you for all shared stories so far. Been moved and enlightened...
 
My father died of a rare form of gastrointestinal cancer in December. Had Stage IV cancer for 2.5 years and slowly whitttled away. Totally flakey guy, drug user, no foresight, and his basic attitude was why put off today what I can put off tomorrow, but the nicest, kindest, give you the shirt off his back sort of guy. Very greagarious and could carry a room at a party for hours.

Naturally, I'm the complete opposite.

We visited him in the nursing home on his final day. He could barely lift a spoon to his mouth, and I had to shift him in his wheelchair because he had no strength. Weight <100 lbs for fucks sake. I was so afraid I would hurt him. But his spirit and sense of humor were so lively.

My wife and I planned to visit him the next morning before we returned home, but we couldn't contact him on the cell phone. At first we thought they were cleaning him or feeding him, but the longer it went, the worse our expectations got. When the phone rang, I let my mom pick it up, and as soon as she said it was the nursing home on the caller ID, I just knew.

I went to the funeral home to make various arrangements, being the next of kin that is my right, as opposed to my wife. She took my mom to the home to sign off on whatever and get his personal stuff. He was still in his bed, warm, and just looked asleep. She gave my Mom some privacy to say goodbye. But the memory of that haunts her to this day. They were real close.

Bottom Line: This week, I give out the inaugural annual scholarship in his name to a college bound senior who wants to go into nursing.
 
I read the first few replies, then decided I should read no more until I post my own. After this, I'll go back and read the rest.

I am 33. 33 year old doctors, soldiers, clergy and emergency workers have probably seen more death, upclose and personal, than I. Most 33 year old civilians probably have not.

Death is simply death. I both love and abhor death at the same time. I hate it for the obvious reasons, but I love it, as every single one of us should, simply because death has allowed each and every one of us to be alive. We live due to the death of plants and animals. If it weren't for death, death of plants, animals, and human animals, I would not be here, nor would you. This isn't some "Lion King" eternal circle view. There is no eternal. Things begin and things end. Sure, I've had heartbreaking emotional responses to death, as most of us have. But I find acceptance of "what is" to be far more fulfilling than throwing myself into some ancient myth that may bring momentary comfort.

I'm not happy about the fact that I'm going to die. I simply see death as two-sided. There was a time before I was alive. There will be a time after I am alive. What matters to me is what's inbetween.

19?? - 20??

Life is in the dash.
 
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Sadly death is so entangled in my life that living is an uncommon thing.

I was the only one with my dad when he died in early 2001 and I won't ever forget those last few minutes. I knew he was going and I think he knew too. He was 64 and I was 15. And I sat there and held his hand while my mom took my little brothers and sister to the store to go grocery shopping.

He said something to me before he died but I couldn't hear him because his voice was too weak. I like to pretend that it was "I'm proud of you," or "I love you," but knowing how stubborn he was, I highly doubt it was even a "goodbye."

Sean Callum Mullan died November 11, 2000 at 4:37 pm from Stage IV Liver Cancer. He was survived by his wife, Odette, and seven children.
 
"Death is all we know of Heaven and all we need of Hell."

Thank you, lurok for this post.
I also want to thank all that posted in it.
It's been a great learning experence reading all your posts, experiences and points of view on death.
It has given me some comfort in reading shared experiences, I hope it has done the same for many of you.

Bless you all.
 
I ask folks here to also keep my sister in your thoughts and prayers as she learned this past Tuesday she has a metastasis tumor that has grown into the lung partially collapsing it and breaking a rib. They also found growths in her other lung and adrenal glands. She is only 47 and married with an 11 year old daughter. Needless to say, this is a very big blow.

Thank you.

Wow. I hope she is alright. She is certainly in my thoughts and prayers, as is her family. So young...
 
I've been around/seen a few people die. Never felt or sensed anything when they did, not passing of a spirit or a presence. They weren't anyone close, one was a complete stranger, he ran a stop on a motorcycle and got hit by a car. He popped up in the air and landed pretty much in front of me. Another one got run over by a front end loader when he jump started it from underneath and it ran his head over, last one got hit by a car when he stepped out in front of it. Other than feeling bad for them, it didn't really affect me, no loss of sleep, no bad dreams, about the only thing it changed in me is that I double check when stopping at stop signs, and make certain there are not any cars coming when I cross a street.
 
I've been around/seen a few people die. Never felt or sensed anything when they did, not passing of a spirit or a presence. They weren't anyone close, one was a complete stranger, he ran a stop on a motorcycle and got hit by a car. He popped up in the air and landed pretty much in front of me. Another one got run over by a front end loader when he jump started it from underneath and it ran his head over, last one got hit by a car when he stepped out in front of it. Other than feeling bad for them, it didn't really affect me, no loss of sleep, no bad dreams, about the only thing it changed in me is that I double check when stopping at stop signs, and make certain there are not any cars coming when I cross a street.
Seriously, you saw all this and it didn't bother you at all?

I saw a woman get hit by a car once, she flew though the air like a rag doll. I couldn't sleep for a week.
 
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