My dad passed away 2 weeks ago, just 11 weeks after my mum died. I sat and watched my mum die, my dad was very ill very quickly - diagnosis to death 4 weeks. In his last few days I dreaded visiting, it broke my heart seeing how he had physically changed, from a big chunky man to a frail, thin curled up one. I couldn't be there when he died, I couldn't watch him go. My DH did instead. I sat downstairs in his nursing home just watching his bedroom door crying. I still don't know if I did the right thing, my thoughts on it change every day.