Is there anything that you wished you had asked or discussed before a loved one passed away?

I wish that I had asked my mother why she divorced my dad and made him fight in court in order to have the right to visit me. After all of these years, my dad who is 89 carries the pain of him just up and leaving him with me when I was around 4. She constantly ran my dad down, but my dad never said anything negative about her. My dad said the main disagreement was over how to raise me. As he put it, she wanted to raise me on a pink pillow, but he wanted to raise me as an all American boy. Also, the news of my mother's death last year was also a very painful experience for my dad. He asked me if she ever said why she divorced him. I wished that I had asked her.

If you have kind things to say - by all means do so.
If she is lucid enough to state final wishes, and wants to do so - absolutely - I actually pulled out a notebook and took notes as dad spoke.
If you have unresolved issues from childhood - an aged frail parent is in no way able to resolve them - so just let it go - you will be the bigger person.
Dying is tough enough - hope you will receive the same mercy.

Well, too late for us - and by the time we knew there was not much time, we could not count on veracity of anything anyways. My dad's fantasies of the past gave us insight into his character that I still treasure, and there was a lot my mom and my husband's parents would never share, they were too ashamed of.

Let's all promise to give our own kids a good gift of history while we can!!

A lot of people don't want anything to do with talking about their past. My siblings could care less and in retrospect have abused rare family photographs. A long time ago, when my (only) nieces wanted ME to give them EVERYTHING I KNEW about our family (which was very time-consuming for me), they took it (without any thank you) ... now 10+ years now, they haven't called me... What a dysfunction family I have... filled with a lot of sarcasm ("why should I tell you?... Why do YOU want to KNOW?"... with underlying tones... "I don't have to tell you"... sad by true. When I was 'younger' and thought I was doing 'good' things for my family, now I find out that it was all for nothing... And, I'm sure I'm not alone.

I have not read all of the responses to your question so I am not sure if somebody has already mentioned this. Please, even if you are not currently researching, ask about your family history (maiden names, dates, places of birth, death etc.) My Mom was never close to her own mother and didn't even know her own mother's maiden name! I have been trying my best to find information on both sides of my parents families without very much help. My father passed away in 1992 and like I said...my Mom was not close to her Mother or her father either. So please...if nothing else, find out all you can about your relatives before it is too late. You will be glad you did!

My father passed away when he was only 45... He suffered immensely because they didn't have the treatment for cancer that they have now... I miss him terribly also, and he's been gone for decades now... I was also in shock when he passed away... I was young... What did I know about 'death', especially loosing a parent... I do feel he is will me always though... and, I do cherish that I did have what little time I had with him... God Bess...

You are a wonderful and compassionate daughter, and you did the right thing by being just that. Your dad knew how much you loved him, and never should you feel any guilt. All of us do what we think is best at the time..never should any of us regret those decisions....marymember

My dad will be gone 3 years this June, I miss him every day and know I will for the rest of my life. He was my everything, I am one of 5 children and the only daughter. My marriage was not good, husband drank and had violent outbursts so when my kids were young my marriage ended and my ex pretty much walked away. My parents were there for me every day and Dad did everything he could to be a positive role model for my two children. I believe they are who they are today because of the love and support of their grandparents and I will forever be grateful to my parents for that love and support. I saw my parents everyday and still see Mom every day. Dad would also call me numerous times a day just to call, some calls would be about something, others were just to say hi and joke around. Dad and Mom would have been married 65 years the year he passed away, they had a wonderful relationship, she was his everything, he lived for her. Their love for each other was so beautiful to see and we saw it everyday. Growing up we never heard an angry word between them, they just loved and respected each other so much. Dad could do anything, his knowledge was amazing, he could fix cars, build anything, renovate anything. He was our go to guy, he had a all the answers and we knew and appreciated what a great mind he had. He was never sick, he worked hard and he enjoyed life to the fullest. He was diagnosed with lung cancer (found during an x-ray of his stomach) in 2006 (age 81) and had surgery to remove the lobe the cancer was in. It didn't show up in any lymph nodes so he didn't need any chemo or radiation. He recovered quickly and was dancing at my niece's wedding two week later. He continued with his active life until he was diagnosed with Non Hodgkins lymphoma in 2008. His face swelled up and he went through so much before they determined it was cancer in his lymph tissue in his sinus, he never lost his spirit though or his love of life. He went through 6 rounds of chemo, and was declared cancer free. He handled the chemo great and was never sick or had any side effects except for neuropathy. Life went on and Dad did great, 6 months after his treatment finished he proudly walked my daughter down the isle at her wedding. We had 3 great years, he welcomed my daughter's first child into the family and he got to do all the things he loved to do. In December of 2010 he started feeling different, he couldn't taste food and his sinuses were blocked. We went to see his oncologist out of concern the cancer was back but insurance denied the doctor's request to do a pet scan or MRI saying it was acting like a sinus infections so it needed to be treated as one, so he was put on antibiotics, three different ones and none helped but by this time he was weak and had lost a lot of his zest for life. Long story short the cancer was back and by the time the insurance would allow a pet scan it was at the brain stem. He went through 25 radiation treatments, treatments that eventually killed him. We were never told what those treatments would do to his throat, saliva glands or anything else. Everything was down played, he was just a number to to them, not human. In the end Dad gave up, he made the ultimate sacrifice to stop all treatment, he didn't want to be a burden to his family and he didn't want us to remember him ill, when we thought of him he wanted us to see him happy, cooking or building things and he knew if he got the feeding tube or allowed any more treatment he would never be that person again and would have to depend on us for the rest of his life so he made the decision to let go. We brought him home and took care of him. We loved him and spent time with him and most important we took care of Mom because through all that he went through his main concern was for our mother, he needed to know that we were there taking care of her and that we would continue to care for her the way he did once he was gone. Do I have guilt, yes I do, I feel like I failed him, I should have researched what radiation does to a person, my Dad was terrified of having radiation, he did it for his family and I feel so bad that he felt he had to do that for us. I feel like I disappointed him in the end. I never see signs that he is around me and I so want to see one so I know he is okay. I feel like I should have done more and that maybe, even though I didn't think he was suffering at the end that he was and I should have given him more morphine and adavan, he seemed peaceful though so I though he was okay. I've read so many stories about how wonderful Hospice was for people, we did not have that, the hospice we had really did nothng, they weren't supportive, they weren't any of the things I have read here but we didn't know, we had never gone through this so we thought they were doing what they were supposed to do, it wasn't until after when I read what so many got from Hospice that I realized what a real Hospice does for the ill person and their family. It was okay in terms of Dad's care though because we took care of him, we did everything we could to keep him comfortable and to show him how much we all loved him. We gave him permission to let go, it was so hard but we, especially Mom and I knew he needed to hear it from us and that we would be okay. The last conversation I had with Dad was about his burial, he wanted to be creamated and his remains kept until our Mother passed away, he then wants to be put in her casket with her, he didn't want to be buried beside her, he wanted to be with her so he could hold her hand forever. I will honor that wish and I have a very small urn of his remains that when my Mom dies I will be put in her hand so they can hold hands forever and the remainder of his remains will be laid in her casket with her. We did bury a small urn at the cemetary with his approval so we would have a place to go to visit him and talk to him, as my brother said, he didn't want to come to my house and talk to Dad on my mantle so it was important that we have a place where we could all go and visit with him. Death is a funny thing, well not funny, its hard to put into words and until you have experienced a loss you have no idea what people go through. I never cried after my Dad died, not at his wake, funeral or even when they played Taps and handed my Mom his flag, I haven't cried anytime after either except for a couple of minutes on the first Father's Day after he died. I cried a lot before he passed away, those last couple of weeks I was crying all the time. I was grieving my loss before he was gone. I believe I was numb after he passed and to some degree I think I still am, I go through life and realize life does go on but I am really stuck in that moment that I lost him, time passes so slowly but it is also speeding by me. I can't believe he has been gone for almost 3 years, I feel like it just happened yesterday. I am a different person now, when Dad died, he took a part of me with him. I have learned a lot about life and love and will forever be greatful for my family and that I got to be a part of my Dad's final journey, It was sad but it was beautiful and I will forever treasure that time with him.

dear onlyoneholly - I write as I hear the pain from the blame, that your mother even plays on - I hope you go to a few AlAnon meetings, for blaming others is part of the normal course of behavior for chronic drinkers - and - in families so influenced, on person pitting other members against each other, is also classic (infantile) effort to hurt - for they like to get reactions. Sadly what alcohol does, when used regularly as a crutch, is anesthetize and block the natural ups and downs that life brings, so because the pains are blocked, the issues don't get resolved, they go on and on, and others are blamed as "the reason", but that's not the truth.

I'm grateful that I learned to ignore what was said under the influence, for whether or not there was any truth to it, fact is, they were not changing their behavior, they were doing small things then returning to drink, and then blaming others as a reason to explain their drinking or other failure to grow.

As I age, I also realize that many of us say things off the cuff, which we call "self-expression" - but our cultures don't teach people how and when to express annoyance or disappointment - instead many blurt out words. But the words do not describe their feelings, those are just implied in tone of voice as they criticize others! Instead of saying, "I get nervous when I have to wait and I forget the time", they say, "You're late! You've always been inconsiderate.... "

I'm also grateful that I've worked with elders - for many times they lash out, maybe for the first time in their lives they realize it's important to speak up - but they have not learned how to do so at the right time in ways that help, or their memory loss makes them forget, so they use the blaming language to express feelings too.

It sounds as if you did many as if you did many nice things for your father - good enough. Change the things we can, and let go of thoughts that you were supposed to be responsible, you were responsible to your own child, hard enough with special needs, and you did what you could think of doing at the time, which was enough. Even when everyone manages to show up, things go wrong, arguments start - we are born alone and die alone, that's the nature of life!

I think if your father could look down now, free of alcohol and pain, and see your self-doubt, he'd tell you, no, don't worry. It was his time, and he went, and seeing you relaxed and content, would please him well. There must have been ways he was proud of you, and I hope you remember those.

Good luck with the issues around your mother's care - and maybe there go to AlAnon too - that really helped me put the focus on my happiness and self care, and just do what I could do and work to avoid over-promising. Families don't live in isolation, though drinkers tend to try to hide and thus they can be more isolated from other helpers. But others are out there, and I hope you keep asking and find some who will take the burden of care, and leave you only with the fringes.

My dad passed away in 1995. The relationship he had with my mother was very full of strife. She has a Borderline Personality Disorder, fueled by alcohol. Their relationship was full of upset. I am an only child -- no sibling(s) to ask perspective on why they fought the way they did. It took years with a counselor and my own research to realize that my mother told a lot of "tall tales." Even in realizing this, there are still some things I'd like to have known from my dad's perspective. The main one is that my mother said that my dad was angry with me when he passed away. When he became ill with what finally ended his life he was not leveling with me about how bad the situation was. He corresponded in letters (I lived in another state), and the frequency of the letters increased so much that last month -- they were full of chit-chat and ramblings. My life was at times overwhelming with being a military spouse, work, and care for a special-needs child. I couldn't answer letters every day and there was no calling on the phone at the home address. How I wished there had been cell phones back then! Anyway, after a few "grumpy" letters from him, I wrote a grumpy one back saying, "I don't have time to write every day, don't you remember what it was like when you were my age?" Supposedly, those words from me broke his heart and he "wrote me off" as a daughter. This is what my mother tells me. She's still alive, she's still yanking my chain hard, and she revels in the fact that I am hurt. I would like to have been able to get to my dad's hospital bedside to tell him that I did care very much; I had a flight booked after talking to his doctor on a Monday, I couldn't fly until Friday because of special arrangements for my daughter while I was away, well -- he passed away on Wednesday that week. I didn't get there in time. My mother wasn't there either. She could've gone but didn't; she chose to lie in bed and drink. I at least was trying and I can counter her statements with that. Still, it nags at me even after all these years, probably because she is still around to mention it.

So, besides those words in my letter, I also wished I'd known more about his intent with the Will that he'd done. It basically made my mother beneficiary to everything, with me as the Trustee to grant her wishes. That tied me to her life and it's made mine miserable. I do not think that was my dad's intent, but I sure would've liked to have known exactly what his intent was.

So, in retrospect, advice is to make sure you are listed for open communications with your loved one's doctor. If you are not the spouse, don't just assume you'll get calls. Ask that you are permitted all and any info, not just the worst and ending news. Talk about important documents like Wills, and if you notice a frequency in letters or calls from your loved one -- start asking "why" sooner.

I am the oldest of 4 children. My father periodically drank too much. But, he worked 6 days a week. My mother was strict and overbearing. My family is Irish Catholic. I do have a good sense of religion and do believe in Heaven and an afterlife. I loved my father dearly and he did have a cancer diagnosis. I was 16 when my father died. The night before we had a great talk about death of his parents and what his parents where like. My family had travelled to Ireland and I met my maternal grandparents. My paternal grandparents died years ago. I guess going to Ireland was closure for him. He was very proud to show us the cottage. He had never been to his parents grave. A headstone was just erected by the children. When I look back he needed to do this. My father was 1 of 13 children with 2 grandparents living in 2 big rooms and a loft where the boys slept. The table was was attached to the wall and came down for meals. The fireplace was made of green marble with many shamrocks. Beautiful! My mother was 1 of 16 children. They where raised in 4 rooms. My father died the following night very peacefully and his wife and 4 children around him. He died in his own home. It took a couple of years to get over his death. My mother was a widow at 45 and 4 children. The house was paid off the following year, $83.15. My mother has social security and pension and life insurance. My mother was able to pay the bills send us to parochial schools. But, told us we where on our own for college. The 4 of us put ourselves through college. Before we knew it my mother was approaching 60. My brother gave her the first grandchild. In 1999 I had my first child and became very close to my mother. My mother cared for my daughter as a infant and toddler. Around the same time my mother could not remember phone number and birthdays of her own children. I took her she had a c scan which showed atrophy of her brain. I cried for 2 days. I had told my family as her dementia progressed that I would care for her in her own home. 10 years befored she died she also had MDS chronic bone marrow failure. Chronic low red blood cells. I gave her an injection monthly which helped keep her red blood cells close to where they should be. I asked my mother for 25 years about answer about advanced directives. She would not answer me. I was my mother's health care agent. My sister was her POA and executrix. We pretty had everything under control. My mother had depression and severe anxiety. A little dementia went a long way with her anxiety. It totally left her. My sister lived with her the first 4 years. She was manageable. Actually, for the 12 years she was self sufficient. She needed ques at times. I moved in for the last 8 years. My husband was very good during the day. But, I knew I had to be home by 5 pm, because she was a sundowner. She woke me many nights at 2am to ask when I was going to take her home to see her parents. I would take her back to bed and tell her we would leave in the morning. She never remembered the following day. I had a worked related injury which left me disabled. I tried to work for 2 years. On June 30, 2010. I decided I could not take the pain and left after 32 years of service. The following fall I could see my mother failing and tried to take her to the doctor, she refused. I had decided not to force her to do anything and the doctor agreed. She was comfort care only. January came and my mother took a bad fall and cracked her head open and needed sutures and staples. My husband went with her in the ambulance. I needed my car and find my family. By the time I got to the hospital. My mother had received her 2nd unit of blood. Which was against my wishes and documented Comfort Care only was ignored. She was admitted to the trauma unit for 5 days. My mother's hematologist told me the medicine wasn't working anymore and now she had developed Leukemia. At that point I decided to bring her home with hospice. 12 years of Dementia and she still knew who I was. My mother was kept very comfortable. She died July 17, 2011. The Thursday before she died. Her dementia lifted for a few minutes. I look at her eyes and she was my old mother. She said to me. "Mary please let me go I've had enough. " that was a ton weight lifted off my shoulders. After 25 years my mother finally told me what she wanted. I was 49. You are never ready for the actual time of death. But, I have no regrets. Both parents died in their own home surrounded by their children and went feet first out of their home. The house had been in my family for 51 years. Lots of memories in our hearts. Just a few weeks ago on Facebook there are clubs. I grew up in this town. It triggered so many memories and I joined the club. I wrote about where I lived and things I remembered and about my family. When I read it again. I realized what a good life I had with my parents and the town I grew up in. Don't get me wrong we where atypical dysfunctional family. But, after every thing that has happened. My 3 siblings and I are still together after all that has happened. My parents are together and at peace. I do believe we will all be together one day. We step from 1 world into the next. I am at peace.

I wished I had asked my mother more about her childhood and how she got along with her 9 siblings. I was able to hear about her own mother and how she treated her very badly (she was the first of 11) and she hated her. Get as much information about the person's prior life before memories are lost.

Never have been able to have 'real' one-on-one' discussion with my mother... So, I'll have known that I tried my best in every respect. (some mother's and, I guess father's are not willing to want to discuss with their children... only what 'suits' them at the time)...

I really miss my father ..... he has been gone for 11 years now.... we have had my mother for the past 6 years... I would love to ask him how he put up with her for 60+ years. He always told me to calm down and to remember she how she was and he would talk to her. oh, how I wish he was still here.

While my mom has all her business records in place, and shared stories throughout life, along with her sister is still very healthy with stories of family history, I am now enjoying tales emanating from my mother's youth while she is in the final stages of dementia, recently started on hospice. While for the most part she barely mumbles a few words here and there, she genuinely perks up and is very audible with what seems to be her story of the day. Yesterday's visit her story was, "You're not going to believe this, but Dad has bought a Model T. Come, I'll show you where it's at," at which time she attempted to get right out of her chair to show me. She proceeded to tell me she slept in the barn that night by the new car. These musings give me a wonderful glimpse into her past and I ask as many questions as possible pertaining to the story and she genuinely is so happy to tell me all the details. I journal her stories when I get home as I find them so precious and intriguing how her mind is still working.

I agree with the ancestry part. And more military service details, and why we were so mistreated as children.

Ask questions about your parent's younger years that you don't know - ex.-
What high school did you attend? What was your childhood like? Tell me about my grandparents.

My mom and I are very close. She is in a nursing home and just began hospice care. We just started a "game" called "What if you only had 3 weeks to live". Some of her requests have surprised me. Who she would want to see, who she does not want to spend time with, a movie or two she would like to see again, a couple songs she wants to listen to, a few foods she wants to taste again, etc. Some of her wishes have been very easy to satisfy. On the people she wants to see I can only put out the request but some have emailed video messages I can play for her. People she does not want to see is a bit more difficult to convey so I am trying to figure that one out. It is a "safe" way to ask a lot of questions I want answers to since it is " only a game."

After losing both my parents in the last 3 years, there are things I wish I would have done differently. Being a nurse, I was their caregiver. Being an only daughter, I was their best friend. Being the only sibling nearby, I was the housekeeper, pet keeper, grocery shopper, taxi,etc.
Looking back, those roles took time from me that I should have spent sitting and holding each of my parent's hands. I regret letting the nurse in me think that dad was hallucinating rather than talking with angels and loved ones that already passed. He even asked me once, "Who is that guy standing in the corner?" I should have asked him, "Does he look like a familiar face?", rather than stating, "There is no one there dad."
Because I was grieving before my dad was even dead, I spent my 50th birthday at home, alone, instead of going to their home, because the thought of this birthday being the last with my dad at my side, was too hard to accept. He died 13 days later.
In my dad's last minutes of his life, my kids were all at grandpa's side holding his hand, but I was on the phone talking to a sibling who was asking what was going on because he had gotten a message from Hospice, but continued to be in denial. Since none of my siblings were of any help through this dying process, I should have just hung up the phone after telling him to communicate with Hospice. I didn't get to say,"I'll be okay dad, go be in peace. I love you and will see you again."
I did better with my mom when she was in her last days. I did tell her she was a great mom and told her to "go be with dad, he's waiting for you". They were married for 55 years. Once again, siblings refused to accept her imminent death, were in denial, and caused turmoil.But, I didn't let it shake me this time. I realized it was THEIR feelings of guilt, not mine. I had to daily remind myself that I did the best I could, in the roles that my parent's asked of me. They were awesome parents! I miss them daily but I am so happy my kids, husband and myself spent so much time with them in their last years.

I wrote a long post about a great aunt, but short answer: Buy one of those "Grandmother Remembers" type of books that parents/grandparents are expected to fill out -- you know the kind. But don't expect her/him to actually fill it out -- it's too taxing for someone who is so far "gone" they need a caregiver. Instead, ask the questions,and then YOU fill in the blanks, or videotape the conversation. Make sure you keep the technology updated; ours with Mom and Dad were on deteriorating videotapes until Sis had them made into DVDs.

I was not a caretaker to my husband's great-aunt and we only saw her about once a year (we always lived hours away). But now how I wish we had MADE the time to get to know her better. Turns out that she was a social worker in Beirut in the 1930s, teaching young Arab women life skills so they could support themselves instead of being forced into marriage for economic reasons. She took Lebanese girls all over Europe and the Middle East, talking all the while about the infinite possibilities they could reach for.When she returned to the U.S., she worked to prohibit child labor, establish workmen’s comp, legalize collective bargaining, and limit women’s working hours to eight a day. In the 40’s she ran the YWCA in Hastings, Nebraska, instigating international study programs for the girls and women there. She ran YWCAs in Argentina in the 50’s, then built the McCormack YWCA in Chicago into a beehive of multicultural programs for girls and women from dozens of countries and races. In her retirement (she married at 70!), she moved into a neighborhood in Indianapolis where there was a lot of "white flight" and started a community group she called the Homestead Project. Some whites, seeing the Starretts move in, decided to stay. A Quaker herself, Aunt Ethel signed on to teach Sunday school at the neighborhood United Methodist church. Neighbors describe her, very small and very white, walking up to drug dealers and telling them to stay away from her young students. She also took on officials, showing up in their offices to insist that community problems be addressed.
On her 99th birthday, she threw a party for both her Quaker and Methodist congregations, and from her hospital bed she was planning a program to improve care for the elderly—said she didn’t like people’s assumptions and attitudes about old people! And I know all this because .... I read it on a website; very little did I actually get from her, personally, because we didn't take the time. Now we have some trinkets of hers that she picked up in her travels. She always wanted us to come over and spend a day so she could tell us about her "stuff," but we were "too busy." Now I would give almost anything to have her back for just a day to tell her how remarkable she was, what an inspiration, and to ask her about her treasures.
Years ago, my sister made videos of our parents in their 70s, asking them the questions in the "Grandma Remembers" book she'd bought for my mom to fill out (but she never did, so it's wonderful to have the videos). There are all sorts of books out there like that -- buy one and use it; write the answers yourself if your loved one cannot.

What a beautiful website this Agingcare.com is. The good the bad, the medical, the planning, the relationships, history, the anger, hurts and the gratitude for gifts sometimes realized, sometimes not. I found tears in my eyes when ProfeChari mentioned that her mother told her what dress she wanted to be buried in.

I had a totally distant relationship with my mother - fear and mistrust on both sides. Ironically, I also felt I could understand her basic shyness, under her bossy control - the daily drinking was so that she could act relaxed on a regular basis - I actually think that's a reason many people drink or drug - they start performing certain expected contributions and find on some days they are tired, agitated and don't want to do it - but our society in America and Canada at least - was not a village where dropouts would be understood with a grain of salt and humanity, and fill-ins standing nearby - no, we strived towards goals of "glory" and that seemed seek appearances - so the person drinks or drugs to have the ability to show up with joy, even if it is artificial joy.

I always felt my mother underestimated me, ignored and devalued me, for she put her attention on 2 disabled sibs including my older sister, and also on the charismatic brothers. But one day she asked me if I would go shopping for her, to go to a local store and try on suits. "You know my size, and you have such good taste" she said. I took the assignment seriously, and spent 9 hours that day in the store, and finally chose 2 options - might have been 3, and had the sent to her. She loved one of them and wore it - I don't know where, for in her rural home with 2nd husband, she always wore slacks. But when I arrived across the miles, to show up for her funeral a few months later, she was in the casket wearing the suit I bought for her. I felt honored then, and looking back, it still feels like one of the few honors she gave me, valuing my talents in front of the whole family. Amazing, the kind of gifts we can get from people whom we did not know as well as we might. My mother and I could barely talk without putting on false joy and kindness in our voices, while I never felt seen or known - this was a gift of recognition, as she was very fussy about her clothing.

Thank you everyone for all of your answers, ideas, and sad and beautiful stories. I tried to thumbs up everyone, but it isn't taking. I think that within the flurry of medical activity surrounding the loved one, I wanted to keep in mind some of the other important things about her life, not just what medical procedure are you facing, what hospital room are they moving you to and what are you eating. For me the idea of genealogy is interesting, not just the lineage, but stories about their parents and grandparents. Not just telling them you love them, but explaining. I have never thought of that. A hug and a kiss, writing things down, recipes, appreciation, religion, making sense of the past - everything is helpful.

Ok...fair warning. This is going to be long and possibly rambling at points. I hope you will understand how difficult this question is for some of us.

My family appeared from the outside to be normal and happy, but on the inside, we were anything but that. I won't go into the details, but I'm sure you'll get the idea by the time I'm done. I will say that my mother should have left my father when I was 10 and told her what was happening in our house, to all of us kids, under her nose. I was the only one that would tell her - my siblings were afraid to, because they'd been told it would break up the family...and divorce was still a somewhat taboo subject in those days - especially for devout Catholics like our family was supposed to be. She didn't leave. She stayed with him, and because she did, all 4 of us kids were dragged along wtih her. Amazingly, we learned to forgive our father for something he should have gone to prison for, and even to love him again, to some extent - but that doesn't mean we ever forgot, or ever put ourselves or him in a position where the problems could start again. He and Mom stayed together, but I learned many years later that they slept in separate beds for the rest of their marriage, and she never, ever let him forget what he did. She told me once that she stayed with him because she knew if she did, he'd never do anything like that again, because he'd know she was always watching him. But another time, she told me she fought to keep our family together, because it was the right thing to do...which totally confuses me. I sometimes wonder if she stayed because she was afraid to try and make it on her own with 4 kids to support, because she'd always been a housewife, or worked part time jobs like housekeeping or cleaning.

All of us married very young and got out of the house at the first possible opportunity, which ended badly a couple of us. We have become professionals at masking pain, hiding our feelings, and making believe everything is ok, when it's not. Because our mom chose to stay with Dad, we were all forced into this farce of a happy family, pretending that nothing ever happened. We compartmentalized the pain and trauma of the past and went on with our lives. There are dreams, nightmares and flashbacks - but for the most part, we just don't talk "about Dad" - that's our code phrase for the whole mess of our early childhood - "it's about Dad", or "I didn't tell them 'about Dad'".

When Dad died last year, all of us were left with a huge list of unanswered questions - and now we'll never get the answers. I don't know that we would have gotten the answers even when he was alive. We all went through some therapy/counseling years ago, but the questions were never fully answered. We have our theories, but without confirmation, they're just that - theories. We all know that Dad's actions will never be repeated by any of us - that cycle of abuse died with him.

His death hurt more than we ever thought it would, because in spite of what he did to us in our childhood years, there were some very good times - camping, fishing, trips to our grandparents' homes in the summer, holidays...and the knowledge the man had was incredible. He knew every bird by name and could name them just by hearing their calls - and could imitate those calls flawlessly. Squirrels and chipmunks would eat out of his hands. He could build incredible things with those hands - he made building signs and crafts out of wood that were amazing. Each of us girls has a cedar hope chest he made by hand out of scraps of wood he got from local businesses and contractors. The concrete floor of the garage made his back hurt when he stood on it for too long, so he took those same scraps of wood, and pieced them together like a jigsaw puzzle to make a wood floor for the garage. He knew everything about cars, how to make homemade paint, how to build a treehouse....and how to destroy a child's confidence and sense of self. I have good memories of my childhood, but I also have a lot of missing memories, or shaded memories that haunt my thoughts like an old television caught between stations - I can see images and hear words, but not all of them, and it's kind of fuzzy. I can't tell you how many times Mom has said, "You remember when we went to (insert place name here)?" - and I have to tell her I have no recollection at all of being in that place, because for some reason, my mind has blocked that memory out.

Now that I am in charge of the house and caring for Mom, the questions are endless. Where is the deed to the house? Dad was a meticulous record-keeper, but the deed is missing. I had to go to the county clerk to get a copy. Where is their marriage license? I can't find that either - another trip to the county office. Why does the furnace make that noise? Should I buy this van to transport Mom around, or that one? How often should the water softener salt be delivered? And most of all...WHY?? Why did you twist our childhood into something that had to be hidden, pushed under the rug, not talked about? Was this same abuse perpetrated against you as a child, and you didn't know anything different?

Sorry, I know this was long (I warned you ahead of time..lol), but this question just struck a chord for me. Sometimes our relationships with our parents are such complicated things...and their passing only makes things worse. You'd think that the passing of an abuser would be a relief - like a weight lifted - but for us, it's just left so many things unsaid. We forgave Dad long ago, and told him so, but it just doesn't seem to be enough.

Wow this is a good topic. I just lost my sister to liver cancer. She has been gone a short month, but it feels like "forever". Our mother worked very hard during our lives to keep us "distrusting" each other. Thus, no real connection. That was "Moms" way of controlling the family. At the time, while my sister was so sick, we got very close. Mom couldn't cause any trouble between us, my sister figured out what Mom had done, and accepted that. My sister and I became very comfortable and at the end of her life we knew we had filled in the void. We got the chance to ask questions of each other to help make sense of some of our memories. It wasn't always easy to talk about our past, a past that we shared, but it was needed for both of us. I miss her, but I don't regret taking the time with my sister to fill in the blanks. She is gone and I hope at peace. I know she is not sick anymore.

I hope this doesn't get removed because it is a religious thought, but it IS my opinion. If it's not your way of thinking, you can just dismiss it, but the very most important thing to me is knowing that they will spend eternity in heaven rather than hell so that I KNOW beyond a shadow of a doubt that they will 'rest in peace'. I think that's the greatest gift you can give anyone. It's the only one that leaves you yourself in peace, knowing that you'll see them again one day. And when one is close to death, they are much more willing to be open to give their lives to the Lord so they can be at peace during the time left here, knowing what is ahead. Next, I think, is geneology, as mentioned above, if you have any questions about it. They may be the only ones left in the family to know certain facts about family history. I am currently trying to type everything I can remember into a document on the computer so my son will have that information when I go. I taped a conversation with my mom's mom who was from Ireland before she died - partly to know sometime about her life growing up in a castle in Ireland, and partly just to get her cute Irish accent on tape to always remember. You could could ask them if they had any questions themselves about you that they have wondered about. And, most importantly, they need to know that you love them and that they did a good job of raising you (most everyone just does the best that they know how to do), and that you are so glad that they are your parent. In the end, love and appreciation for all they've done for you means more than anything else. Even if they are ornery, or cranky, or cold, hard people themselves - deep down they want to know this.

I was very fortunate to have loving parents who expressed their love both verbally and physically. I am an only child, and there was never a doubt about how proud my parents were of me. I was almost 50 when my Dad passed away, and he still called me, "Baby." The evening before he passed away, he began talking to me about the past. I sensed what he was trying to do and asked him to wait til Mom could hear him, too. The three of us talked for a long time. He felt he had not been good enough as a father and husband. We assured him that we wouldn't be at his side if that were true. That was the last time he was able to speak, and I am so glad Mom and I stopped what we were doing and listened to him. When my Mom was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins (sp. ?)lymphoma, stage four, the doctor more or less told her she had about six months to live. We were always close and could talk, although I ended up in counseling to save my sanity when she became so demanding of me, extra money and "things," and my time. I devoted many years to doing whatever she wanted of me, to the point that I ignored my husband and home (which I regret...I almost lost my husband and my marriage). After therapy and learning how to have "tough love" when necessary and after the doctor's diagnosis, my Mom and I knew our time was limited. They started her on chemo, but her blood count was so low every other week that she had to have blood transfusions in order to be strong enough for the next treatment. After a month of that, she told the doctor she did not want to continue with her treatment. She told him she did not want to spend the last months of her life going back and forth between the chemo treatments and blood transfusions; she wanted to spend them with her daughter. I still marvel at the strength it took for her to make that decision. As I said, I was very fortunate. We went to every restaurant she enjoyed and to see every live Mariachi Band's performance we could find! The last movie we saw was, Beverly Hills Chihuahua; and, I can still see her face and remember how much she enjoyed it. We went to the nail salon together and always had lunch afterward. We spent many hours in her room talking about everything under the sun. I asked her everything I could think of and wrote many of them down. I am not sure you would call it singing, but we make a "joyful noise" while singing along with our favorite gospel CDs. One day she told me which dress she wanted to be buried in, and I was sure that she sensed the end was nearing. I don't know if you saw the movie, The Apostle,,,but there is a song in it about the person's feet growing wearier each day and her having leaving on her mind...her one regret would be leaving the other person behind...but she would be waiting on the other side of Jordan...and meet her (me!) with a shout, etc... If you haven't seen the movie, at least listen to the soundtrack. She was perfectly healthy when we saw the movie together; and, as we left, I told her she just heard one of the songs that would be sung at her funeral. We laughed and went immediately to get copies of the soundtrack, I had seen what a wise decision Mom had made by making pre-arrangements for my Dad. So, exactly one month before her death, I made pre-arrangements, right down to the music and pictures to be displayed, with the funeral home. That is the only time I wished I had siblings. I felt so alone in making those decisions, but I knew she would have approved of them. One day, out of nowhere, after one of our singing sessions, she asked me if I had made any arrangements for her funeral. As I said, we were very open and honest with each other, so I told her I had. The next day she asked if I would tell her what I had decided. I thought that was rather strange; but, as I said, she was the strongest woman I have ever known. So, I told her the details as she listened intently and seriously. Everything was very matter-of-fact until I told her which pictures of her and of her and my Dad were going to be displayed. My favorite picture of her was taken when she was about ten. She has an obviously unhappy pout on her face and one curl on her forehead. When I told her that was one of my choices of pictures, she at first said, "Oh, no, Sharon!" I just grinned, and before you know it we were both laughing. So many parents don't want to discuss their wishes with their children. I will be forever grateful that we were able to talk about such things. It really made it easier on me. So, my first response to your question would be no, I didn't have any regrets. On second thought, though, I wish I had gathered all of her recipes together and gone through them with her, writing down her special touches to the ones I really liked. By all means, my advice to you and to the other person, is to please try your best to be open with your feelings and affection! Spend time with your mothers and do things with them that make them happy. Forget the past and value the only time you will have left with your mothers. Consciously write down the things you don't know and what to ask her. My mother and I greeted each other with a hug and "I love you," and I never left her without doing the same things...even if she were asleep. It was very difficult to mourn her passing and to try to save my marriage during the first year after she was gone. Now I can look back and laugh at some of the things we said and did. We made many precious memories, and I consider them her gifts to me. No matter how you were brought up or how you feel about being affectionate, overcome them. Don't forget to write down the recipes! Try to make the time left as positive as possible, and I am sure you will have no regrets or unanswered questions. My heart goes out to you and to the other lady. I hope something I have said helps you to be at peace with yourself both now and when the time comes.

I grew up with a strict and cold hearted father, but a loving and good mother. I was sort of afraid of my dad, although he never hurt me. He just had such a hard life that he tried to run our lives to meet his ideas. He especially was hard on my brother. My dad didn't believe in college..his idea was to go straight to work from high school and build up status...but my brother and I both attended college and my mother struggled to pay for it. It was later that I really came to appreciate her and love her more....

I agree about telling your loved one he or she is important and loved. I am very shy about that, and so am working on it. Somehow I feel awkward kissing and hugging, but it is important, and once started should continue, especially in front of other loved ones. Just a hug and a kiss,,,,and to say I Love You..So try doing it now....time is flying by and for me, I don't want any guilt feelings....

I asked and recorded a lot of things once I noticed my dad was forgetting a lot. My dad was not the best dad so we had talked about the things he had done while we were young. I wanted him to know that I had forgiven him. The only thing I wish I had done a little differently is that I wish I had hid my frustration at times. He felt like he was a burden to me and when he saw me frustrated I think it made him feel bad. I know he knew that I loved him but I am not sure he knew how much and I wish I had explained it to him rather than just telling him that I loved him. I miss him deeply.