My husband had small cell carcinoma lung cancer that was isolated. We were excited because he had a chance. He was diagnosed in Feb 2015. He had a lobe removed in April. We were to do the chemo & radiation as a precaution because nothing showed anywhere on PET or pathology from the surgery. He had only lost 4 pounds from chemo. We just knew he would be ok. We had finished chemo & 35 radiation treatments on his chest when he was having memory problems that ended up being cancer on his brain. He had the 10 radiation treatments on his brain. The steroids made him swell something awful. He started getting weaker then. Most of Dec he was in the hospital. Dec 30, one day before our anniversary on the 31, we were given 6-8 weeks. He fought so hard & 2 weeks before he was still walking & talking. The last week he went down. We had so many people in & out that I felt like I was in a zoo. But Neal told his brother he hated to leave me. We had already told him it was ok when he was ready but on Friday, March 25, everyone left that morning to get ready for Easter dinner they were having on Sat. It was just me & him just like old times. We talked & he was responding & said our goodbyes. Everyone started coming in & he went into deep sleep. That night we could tell he was in distress. We gathered around his bed, said the 23rd Psalms & he took 2 breaths & gained his wings. I really felt he "left" that morning when we had our alone time. It didn't seem like him after that, something was different. I will never forget that morning......ever.

I was also there when my husband took his last breath. I left the room shortly after. He had heart
disease and I will miss him for ever. We did everything together and we were married 54 years. He has only been gone 2 months. I hate the loneliness. I loved him with all my heart and I have no idea how to get thru this.

I play that night in my head every day for the past year of my wife gasping for air, me giving her CPR, and trying to call 911. It happened so quickly that it took days for me to realize that she was dead before the paramedics got there. They never could get her heart to start back up. It feels like it's burned into the back of my eyelids. When I close them, it's all I see.

I remember getting a call from my step daughter, who was the primary contact at the pallative care facility my husband was in (she's a cellphone addict, while I tend to unplug my phones.) I raced down there, doing 30 km over the speed limit, and held his hand while he died. I remember watching him struggle for his last few breaths, moaning almost like a kitten. He smelled strangely like buttered popcorn, which is why I won't eat microwave popcorn now. (Nor am I particularly fond of movie theatres when they're making it.) I remember him taking that last breath and as he settled, a bird hit the window to his room and flew away. If it had made it through the glas, it would've landed on the shoulder of the minister who was with us. It was the strangest thing, and the first in a long line of crazy happenings. I remember the minister then told us he was going to the nurses station to make note of the time. Time? I thought. Time for what? Is this it? No heavenly choir or melodramatic music? I kissed him goodbye on his forehead, his skin already cool to the touch.

It's not something I will ever forget. All those strange little details have stayed with me, and probably will until I die.

I too was with my husband , Bob when he died and like you the image of his death and me lying in a bed holding him and sobbing comes in my mind out of nowhere and its paralyzingly painful. Bob's family and friends had all had a chance to come and say goodbye to him and that night when everyone left, I climbed into the bed next to him, told him that it was ok to go that his fight here was over and prayed to my mother to come and take him home. My husbands doctors were wonderful and after caring for him for 12 1/2 , very brutal years I trusted them when they said that there was nothing more that they could do to help him. In spite of knowing that I respected his wishes once the morphine drip was started he lost what little consciousness that he had had and I was in agony wondering if he hungry or thirsty, Constantine feeling like I had given them permission to kill the most beautiful and important person in the world to me. It's been less than a month and I still question what I did in my heart but my rational side tells me that I did the right thing for him. When I have these thoughts of his death, I allow my self to sob as long as I need to . I then force myself to find a happy memory and keep replaying it over and over agin in my head. When you spend 26 years of your life loving Someone completely and over twelve of those are spent caring for and fighting for them I have to hold onto the fact that he knew how ferociously protective I was of him and he knew that the decisions I had to make at the end would be agonizing for me but that I would have done anything to help him as I always had. As awful as those memories are , he knew that I protected him and loved him until his very last breath. I wish you light, love and the ability to conjur happy memories to help you heal.

My wife battled cancer for only 5 weeks. I was there nearly every minute with her from diagnosis to grave. The day she left me I knew the night before her time was going to be up. I sat up all night with her, held her hands, caressed her face and let her know it was ok to go home. I would take care of our kids and her dad and that she could go home to her mom, grandparents and God. I relive that night in my head nearly everyday, but I o longer remember it in grief. I remember it as a happy night her pain was ending.

Monday (Aug 22) would have been her 41st birthday. I know and remember every memory of the last 15 years of my life and cherish everyone of them.

I was holding my dear Wife's hand when she took her last breath. It is something i replay in my head too. I had to take her off the ventilator she was on for 27 days. Her kidneys shut down ans she was bleeding out in her stomach. My profile is open if you want the whole story, but suffice it to say even as horrible as it was and as many times that it replays in my head, i would not have wanted to be any other place but at her side when her time came. It was my last loving act for her, and I know she would have done the same thing for me. She passed 2 weeks prior to our 40th wedding anniversary in September 2012.

I could have wrote this exact story...was he in pain..could he hear...

My wife passed away from ALS a year ago next Tuesday. She was in home Hospice. Although she was unresponsive the last day I felt she could still hear me. I thanked her for 40 years together and within 1/2 hour as I was holding her hand she took her last breath. I replay it in my head all the time.

I was also at my husband's bedside when he passed. He had been on a ventilator for three days prior to his death. Sepsis had caused his body to enter into multi-organ failure. First, his liver, then his kidneys, and finally his lungs. His heart was beginning to show signs of wear and started to decrease. The nurses had began to decrease the medicine that was keeping his heart rate at a normal level. These meds had been maxed out the entire time he was in the CCU. When they began the decrease in medicine, she said that the meds could take several house to get out of his system. Meaning, if his heart did not begin to work properly on its own, that it could take several hours before he passed. This was at roughly 2:45 p.m. My two older children (13 and 15) were each holding one of his hands. I remember it just like it happened five minutes ago. I was on the phone with his brother explaining what the nurse had just told me. While I was talking to him, I looked at the heart rate monitor and it read 55. Within five seconds it dropped to 0 and he flatlined. That quick. This was at 3:22 p.m. He was 44 years old. I was there with him, the totality of his death not yet sinking in. The kids were holding his hands as he flatlined. I had to hand the phone over to the nurse so she could tell my brother-in-law what happened. I had already said my final goodbyes to Michael earlier in the day because I just had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that the probability of him surviving was almost nil. The nurses and the doctors had also spent a week preparing me for what was to come. I just couldn't comprehend it at the time.

You asked about our experience when our beloved passed. 4 days before Ernie passed, I was given a booklet from the hospital explaining what to expect. But nothing was matching the booklet. I had my laptop with me so I started to research. I found information from Northwestern University explaining that there are 2 paths, the usual path, and the difficult path. The difficult path is the one my beloved was experiencing. It was terrifying to experience with him.

Armed with this new information, I had a better understanding of what was happening. I held him, and constantly reminded him that I was there and I would not let him fall.

I had planned on remaining awake all night as I sat in a chair next to him. But at some point I did fall asleep. But I was fortunate I woke up at 5 am. I was holding my beloved in my arms and kissing his lips when he exhaled his last breath. This was the last gift that we were able to give to each other.