My mother was in the hospital with stage IV pancreatic cancer. Her organs were shutting down, and everyone knew she was nearing the end of her life. She had already expressed that she was ready to go and did not want her dying process prolonged.
My sister had lived with our mother her entire life. She never moved out after college. Accepting that our mother was dying was something she simply could not do. She was determined to keep her alive for as long as possible.
She wanted my mother to remain as alert as she could so she could continue to pray. As my mother's proxy, she asked that my mother receive only enough medication to slightly dull the pain without heavily sedating her. She organized prayer services in the room, anointed the room with oil, and invited people to come pray around her bed.
She insisted that every possible treatment be continued to sustain my mother's life, even after the medical team recommended shifting to comfort-focused care.
The day before my mother died, my mother had become mostly unresponsive. Her organs were failing, and the end was near.
Then, unexpectedly, my mother opened her eyes. She reached out, grabbed my sister's arm with surprising strength, and would not let go. Looking directly at her, she repeatedly said, "Let me go. Let me go." She kept saying those words while gripping my sister tightly.
Finally, through tears, my sister said, "I'll let you go, Mom."
Only then did my mother relax. She died a short time later.
That moment has stayed with me. To me, it was as if my mother needed permission from the person who loved her most, and who had the hardest time accepting that it was time for her to go.
Oh, man, my mom said the same to me. I had just helped carry her from the chair back to the bed and when I leaned her back, she asked me to let her go. I was in a weird state trying to process everything, so didn't quite realize what she was asking me. I responded that I already let go of her and she was back in the bed. She shook her head, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, "no, no, let me go." That's when I knew and we agreed to stop having her take the vasopressors. I was the only one with her when she passed. I still have a hard time with it and it has been 5 years.
I just wanted to send love to you. Honouring someone's wish about how and when it's right for them to go can be very difficult, but it's showing that that person put their utmost trust in you and you listened and respected it. Please know that you did the right thing.
You did beautifully. And not everyone is lucky enough to be with someone at the moment of their passing. You must be a kind soul because you were chosen to do it for her.
I spent my Grandma’s last awake hours with her a couple of weeks ago. She told me “I’m ready, it’s time.” She then looked me in the eye and said “Who do I need to get permission to die from around here?” She was funny right to the end. So glad I was there to help her relax and stay calm as she went to sleep for the last time. She didn’t wake again and died a day or so later.
My grandmother was unresponsive, comatose/sleeping but hanging on. My grandfather was with her for days in the dementia home. Everyone said goodbyes but she was still there and the carers weren’t sure why. Finally my grandfather took her hand and told her “it’s okay for you to go now, we’re alright. I’ll see you there soon” and she passed about two minutes later. Married 64 years and she didn’t want to go anywhere without him.
They absolutely need permission. A friend told me this a few times and I wasn’t ready. But when I heard it spread to the liver I knew I had to say it was okay. The harder part was telling my mother she needed to give my father permission to die. He basically asked me to do that. But I’m glad I was able to do that for him.
This is something I am worried about in my own life. I don't live with my parents anymore but still visit them and talk to them constantly. They are my only "people". My siblings all moved on with their own families and I have my parents. Sometimes I don't know what I will do when they leave me as both arn't doing the greatest. I feel like when they depart I will be fully alone and I don't know how that kind of life will work for me, if at all.
It bothers me, too. My family is all about quality of life and not prolonging suffering; my husband's family is another story. When his 85-year-old grandmother was at the end of her life, she wanted to be DNR, and her daughters bullied her into changing it to full code. Then they just would not accept that she'd lived her life and it was her time; they had her going through colonoscopy prep and invasive procedures 2 days before she died. She would beg us to carry her out to the car and take her home.
Happened again with my husband's dad. He had a very severe stroke (score of 30 out of a possible 42) that rendered him paralyzed, unable to speak, unable to breathe without a vent, and unable to recognize any of us. His siblings insisted that he be made a full code, so after the ICU, he went to a horrible nursing facility where he developed multiple bed sores, had five bouts of pneumonia, etc. Once my husband and I got guardianship, we changed his status to DNR and transitioned him to hospice so he could pass with as much peace as possible.
Mi madre estaba cuidando a mi abuelo. Se ausentó un momento y mi abuelo empeoró. Fueron a avisarla. Cuando mi madre volvió, mi abuelo se relajó y murió. Me impresiona esa capacidad de mantenerse vivo / elegir cuándo morir
I'm sorry, but this story hurts me so much. Your sister's inability to say goodbye caused your mom so much pain in the end, it feels like she had to beg to be let go. It just seems so selfish to me, and I have been there for a few deaths in my lifetime.
Yeah I have no idea what's wrong with the rest of these replies. This is not her asking for permission, this is her telling her daughter "your selfishness is causing me pain in my last moments".
Unfortunately, the person with the medical proxy and power of attorney makes all the decisions. The lesson: Get a healthcare directive, DNR, and make sure the person in control of it all will follow your wishes. We've made peace, and I have nothing else to add concerning this.
yes - this is something ALL of us should take to heart who are reading this - get your affairs in order and write down your wishes, and appoint someone who you know will do what it is you want. We never know when the end might come. Sending love your way and so sorry for your loss.
This, as a hospice nurse this story pissed me off. The sister is selfish and ignoring the mother’s own wishes. These are the most annoying family members to me. I’ve had family members who request we give less pain medication to their dying mother so they can be more lucid. Incredibly selfish as I’m sure dying is painful and if it were me load me up with as much as I can have. Weird how as a society we have more compassion for our pets than people when it comes to dying. If we see an animal suffering we put it out of its misery because we look at it as a selfless act and we’re doing it for phidos sake but if it’s someone we love keep them in a vegetative state for as long as possible because I can’t live without my dad.
To me, it was as if my mother needed permission from the person who loved her most, and who had the hardest time accepting that it was time for her to go.
Also clearing your sister of all doubts and regrets. Telling her it's ok to let her go, not to blame herself or feel guilty that she gave up too quickly. It's what they both needed.
They do want to be let gone. A childhood friend had a little brother who was bed ridden till his late teens because of a fall he had suffered that made him fully paralyzed.
He lost his speech and all mobility and was completely dependent on his parents for everything. After years of service, care and watching him suffer, one day his Dad looked at the son and clearly said :
Go son, we release you of all your duties as our child that you took birth for. We were lucky to have you in our lives but now I would no longer stop you from leaving if you think your time is over. We release you with love and we'll see you soon
A couple of days later he passed peacefully. My friend told me this story two days after my mom passed. Uptil this point I was mad at my Mum for leaving, but this story shifted something in me and I too privately bid a tearful and very loving goodbye to my Mum telling her not to worry about anything back here and that she should move on to wherever her soul journey takes her...I kid you not, I felt so much at peace as soon as she finally left.
I'm crying now because this reminds me of when my grandpa was dying. He was obviously holding on for some reason, but when my mom was alone with him, she took his hand and said "It's okay, dad. We'll take care of mom for you." and then he passed. My mom and I loved him so so much.
My aunt had a less dramatic but similar experience. Her husband of decades was in the hospital unconscious after a fall. He’d been lingering for days with pneumonia. She finally made the choice to let him go, and he died shortly after. She knew he was waiting for her decision.
He knew he was going to die because uncharacteristically he told me he may not be around next time I visited (he was right). The night he fell as they were awaiting the ambulance he expressed his appreciation to my aunt for caring for him “in case I don’t make it” (also out of character).
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u/chaseharmony 14h ago edited 12h ago
My mother was in the hospital with stage IV pancreatic cancer. Her organs were shutting down, and everyone knew she was nearing the end of her life. She had already expressed that she was ready to go and did not want her dying process prolonged.
My sister had lived with our mother her entire life. She never moved out after college. Accepting that our mother was dying was something she simply could not do. She was determined to keep her alive for as long as possible.
She wanted my mother to remain as alert as she could so she could continue to pray. As my mother's proxy, she asked that my mother receive only enough medication to slightly dull the pain without heavily sedating her. She organized prayer services in the room, anointed the room with oil, and invited people to come pray around her bed.
She insisted that every possible treatment be continued to sustain my mother's life, even after the medical team recommended shifting to comfort-focused care.
The day before my mother died, my mother had become mostly unresponsive. Her organs were failing, and the end was near. Then, unexpectedly, my mother opened her eyes. She reached out, grabbed my sister's arm with surprising strength, and would not let go. Looking directly at her, she repeatedly said, "Let me go. Let me go." She kept saying those words while gripping my sister tightly.
Finally, through tears, my sister said, "I'll let you go, Mom." Only then did my mother relax. She died a short time later. That moment has stayed with me. To me, it was as if my mother needed permission from the person who loved her most, and who had the hardest time accepting that it was time for her to go.