I was with my father when he was dying of cancer. It took a lot longer than we'd imagined - several days - and in his last hours, our brothers left to stay at our parents' house, while my sister and I stayed on.
One thing we requested was for lights to be dimmed to almost dark and when a member of staff insisted on turning them on, I remember saying "my father's trying to die here!" She was the only unpleasant one - everyone else was happy to comply, though it was simpler because he had a single room. Before that, while he was still semi-conscious, we'd played old music tapes for him.
As he got weaker and his breathing started to get noisier, my sister and I sat and talked by his side. Lots of happy "remember when..." stuff. We held his hand, and before my brothers left for the night I asked them to say goodbye to dad, just in case. Each of us cuddled into him and whispered in his ear.
Just as well we did, because later on, the brusque staff member sent us out while she "turned him over", and when we went back into the room (nurse had left), Dad had gone. At the time, my sister and I were devastated to have missed his last moments, but later I realised that's exactly what he'd have done, given the choice. He tried to protect us, always.
Thinking of you, OP 