I lost my mum two years ago, my dad four. And I am still here - years later - really struggling with the fact that I wasn't able to be with either of them when they died. I don't know what anyone can do or say, but if it's okay - I just need to write it down/get it out.
I am an only child and was very close to both my parents. Lived a few streets away and saw them several times a week and spoke to them almost daily. I have a lovely DH and three DC - lots of friends etc - but no other family. No grandparents, no aunts, no cousins - so before DH - it was always just the three of us.
Four years ago, mum was struggling with really bad dementia and had gone to a local home for a four day respite stay - respite really for me and dad who were exhausted and a change of scene for her as she was so anxious and agitated. Up all night, calling police/ambulances/neighbours, wandering out etc. Dad needed a break.
I was driving past my parents house and there was an ambulance outside. I parked up and me and DD went to see what was happening. My lovely, healthy and active Dad was sat in a armchair looking a bit pale but not too bad, whilst the paramedic did an ECG. He had fallen and been unable to get up for a few hours and eventually someone heard him calling out. ECG was ok and paramedic assured me and DD that he would be fine. DD and my DDad were best friends so she really grilled the paramedics (as only a feisty nine year old can) but they were very confident that he would be fine. They took him to hospital for an overnight stay to keep an eye on him and I told dad i'd pack a bag and come in the morning. All fine.
At 5am I got a call to say I should get to the hospital straight away - he was having a massive heart attack. At 5:15am - just as I was leaving, they called to say he had died. I was inconsolable. I went anyway and sat with him, kissed him and read to him, but I was so so angry that I didn't get the chance to tell him that he was the best dad in the world. I then had to go and tell mum what had happened. She was heartbroken. The home where she was having respite wouldn't let me take her home, so I had to leave her there which broke my heart. I went back that evening and she had forgotten so i had to tell her again (as I did many times over the next two years). But anyway, Dad died alone.
Two years later and still managing to keep mum at home through support from me and local care workers, I arranged for her to have two days respite care again so i could go away for one night with DD who was struggling with school/friendships etc. One night. The first one in actual years. So we drove to a hotel around three hours away for a break for me and her to be together. DH was at home with DS and they said they'd visit mum for me.
Later that day DH called to say he found some ticks on DDog and if he took her to the vet to ensure they were all out, he wouldn't get a chance to visit my mum. I told him not to worry, I'd visit tomorrow when I got back.
At 2am I got a call from a hospital to say that Mum had been brought in by ambulance from her respite care place and that she had suffered a massive brain bleed and was on life-support and would not survive. I had drunk a couple of glasses of wine and there was a thunderstorm. We were in deep countryside with twisty windy roads and I knew driving was not an option. I BEGGED them to hold on for a few hours so I could drive at first light but they wouldn't or couldn't promise me. I tried calling a taxi but noone would take me all the way back to London so I called DH. He. took DS to the hospital and they sat with her for me. They also begged the hospital to leave the machine on until i could get there but the hospital said it was cruel and they turned it off.
So i never got to say goodbye or thank you or I love you because I was away having a fucking spa day.
And I can't reconcile it or accept it. They were there for me for every bump, bruise, tummy ache, shit boyfriend, friendship drama, wedding, pregnancy, everything. And I let them both die without me.
And when I read about people sitting with their loved ones as they pass, I feel envious (which I realise is disgusting of me) but I do. And instead of it getting better, the pain of not having been with them is getting worse and I feel ridiculous for fixating on it, but I really am.
I know I told them in life that I loved them, but neither of them had a life-limiting condition or anything to indicate death was coming for them any time soon. My mum's dementia was bad but she still knew who I was / was continent / mobile etc So i never told them meaningfully what a great job they had done and how loved they were. And worse, I was not there holding their hands as they left this world.
I know I have to let it go, but I don't know how. I would be grateful for anyone who has a) got this far and b) has any words of wisdom.