I have one that honestly haunts me every day of my life.
My mum died a few years ago, stomach and ovarian cancer. She battled on for 18 months but then ended up in a hospice. We’d spent as much time as we could in those 18 months and became really close despite the fact our relationship had always been quite fragile. She wanted to go home but her husband had said no, it wasn’t safe (OT had assessed the flat and it needed modifications to make it safe as she was so weak). She couldn’t eat anything and was vomiting waste, she was very close to death.
She was very into alternative medicine and some of the people bleeding her dry for cash had told her that if she stayed in the hospice, the place would kill her.
She called me in tears, begging me to take her home. I said I couldn’t - I wasn’t able to care for her, I lived in an attic flat, there was no way. She screamed at me about how I was selfish and giving up on her and how if I left her there she was going to die, it all got very fraught, and I shouted at her that she was going to die wherever she was and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
At that point she really didn’t accept she was going to die. I should never have said it. She was really broken by it and I regret it every day.
The next day she wouldn’t give me a hug or talk to me, and two days later she died. That was the last conversation we had, even though I was there until she died.
After that call she accepted the painkillers she’d been refusing, I think she gave up and wanted to die and I wish I could change it. Just thinking about it makes me cry.