My mother just passed from lung cancer after a long bout of kidney failure and I have to say that there is no feeling you have while this is happening that is not justified. The only difference I guess is that due to the kidney failure, she wasn't always "with us" if you know what I mean. I prayed and prayed and cried for just one more day, one more hour before she passed that she would look at me and know who I was, who my children were, tell us she loved us. Two weeks before she died, I had two hours where she knew us. She said she knew she was dieing, but she wasn't afraid. She was ready to go. I can't say for sure what its like to lose a brother, but my mothers death has changed me in a profound way. I had to decide to stop all heroic measures, but I felt it was what she wanted. She was in pain, she didn't know where she was and all we were doing was making her die longer. So, we decided to stop all medication except for pain meds on a Monday----a very tearful Monday. Each one of her children had their "moment" with her. Can I say without anyone thinking I'm crazy that I could feel her pain, her anxiety, literally. She had an irregular heart rate one night in the middle of the night and took her to the ER. There was no time to call me, my sisters just took her. At that very moment, I woke up out of a sound sleep because I felt my heart like it had went down the hill of a rollercoaster and all I could see was her face. I knew she was dieing and I jumped out of my bed and fell to my knees in pain, the pain in my chest was so intense. All I could say was "My momma, something is wrong!" and he begged me to call but I was too afraid.
Another night, I heard her call my name like she was in my kitchen, the way she would call my name when I was a child and she was looking for me to come in for supper. I had countless dreams of her reaching into the light to take someones hand, I don't know who, but she would look at me and pull back. The night she took a turn for the worse, I was already awake because I had a dream that she was creeping into the light and turning to look at me like "is it okay?". I was crying my eyes out when the phone rang. The nurse said she was showing all the signs that it was the end. But I knew before they did.
What I can tell you about a terminally ill loved one is that they know. They know when its time, they need you to tell them its okay to go. They want you to be okay without them. Its okay to cry, but they want to know that you will "forgive" them for leaving. That night I went in to my mother. She was way past speaking to anyone. We sat with her for 27 hours. She had not moved, she just breathed that funny sound in her chest. There was no movement, no tremor, nothing. Suddenly, I felt that feeling in my heart again and I looked up and she closed her mouth. I ran to her and I got in the bed and I held her close. I just started talking in her ear-I love you momma, we're hear with you, your husband is waiting for you and your mother. We will all be okay, we will take care of everything, we don't want you to be in pain momma, you can let go. I told her I would never forget her, I would tell my children about her, how much she loved them, how much I loved her, how much she loved Christmas. She died in my arms at 4:57 pm on September 29, 2008. What I felt was guilty for feeling relief that she would never feel pain again. Happy that her struggle was over, but still so selfish that I wanted her hear with me. I was torn. But what I can tell you is that I know you are sad and you are worried and scared, but you have to let them know that its okay to die, that you will take care of everything and you will never ever forget them as long as you live. My sympathy to you, this is going to be hard. The hardest thing I have ever done was hold my mother in her arms while she took her last breath. But she held me when I took my first, I owed that much to her.