I've only been on the forum for short periods of time these past few months, my father has been in a nursing home for the past 21 months, and I've been spending time with him. I have no brothers or sisters, so I was there every day for him, as my mother passed some 6 years ago. He had been living alone and doing quite well since her passing, but over time he kept falling, then was unable to walk or care for himself. This made the nursing home the only place where he would be safe and taken care of. He did realize that he had to be there, but he didn't like it at all. He overcame many set backs, open heart surgery, complete bowl removal, problems breathing, and a host of other things, but always bounced right back. He was not happy at all the past couple of years, and kept saying that all he wanted was to be with my mother, with whom he spent just short of 64 years. It all started to go down hill last Monday when the end started. For the entire week he was just sort of like in a coma, but he kept hanging in there, he was unresponsive but breathing on his own and just existing. I was called in the morning and told I'd better get in there on Sept. 3rd., that it looked like the end was nearing. I went in and spent 9 or 10 hours there but he just would not let go. I even told him it was O.K. to go, that he's done the best he could have done, that most of the important people had been to see him, the priest had given him the sacrament of the sick, and that he didn't have to hold on any longer. Even that didn't seem to work, as he lasted through the night and into the day of Sept. 4th. I had gone home that evening fully expecting to get the call sometime during the night, but the call never came. I went back to the nursing home the morning of the 4th, stayed with him right up until just before 2 P.M. I looked at him laying there and told him again that it was O.K. to just let go. A few minutes later I looked at him, he really hadn't moved all week, and he kind of moved his arms, moved his jaw, which had just been open for over a week, and closed his eyes, and that was it. I called the nurse and said that I think it was the time, and she came in, checked him over, and said yes it was, he had passed. He was 93 years old, and now another part of life has taken place, and now my life will move on. I was prepared for what happened, but its still kind of hard. He had been with me for so long that I guess I thought he's always going be there. I'll get through it though, and time will heal the sadness. I didn't mean to ramble like this, but this is such a great place, and I'm having trouble sleeping tonight, its now almost 3 A.M. on Sept. 5th. There was no hope of him ever getting out of the nursing home, and he wasn't at all happy there. So this is probably for the better.