A week ago Monday, my fiancee and I were speaking with the doctor, who told us Dad was failing, and it would be only a matter of days. He was dehydrated and his body was shutting down. The next morning, I stopped in to see how he was doing (I had to run errands), and he was in distress. He had just finished breakfast (he ate well!), and he was having some kind of seizure/attack. I rushed to his side and took his hand, telling him I was there. He couldn't see (his eyes were fixed) or speak, but he squeezed my hand hard. The nurse told me he was taking his final breaths, and I told him to go be with Mom, go be with Jesus, and that we'd be OK. Thirty seconds later he was gone.
My brother & family arrived on Wednesday, and we had the funeral on Saturday. Somehow, we managed to put together an amazing service. I was in a good place emotionally, so I actually sang a setting of Psalm 23, and played the piano for two of the hymns. My brother gave the most poignant remembrance, filled with love and a most fitting tribute to an amazing man that I was honored to call my Dad for 48 years.
Dad's passing was an act of grace. He did not suffer or linger. The previous day, I had a fluid moment with him when all the neurons were firing, and I told him the doctor was there. "why? Am I sick?" "Yes, Dad - I think you're getting ready to go be with Mom." "Oh, ... OK." Then I took his arm, and said "Dad, this is very important. I want you to know how much I love you." He grabbed my arm, and patting it with his hand, he said "and I love you very, very, very, very, very much."
What a gift. What an amazing thing to walk in the room as he is ready to pass, to hold his hand, and be with him in that holy moment. I am in a good place emotionally, as I rejoice that my parents are together, no longer hindered by their bodies. I feel their presence all around me, and I give thanks to God for giving me the best parents I could possibly want.

http://www.nitardyfuneralhome.com/obits/20...