We’ve been sending many thoughts and prayers your way, Joe.
My mom’s doctor had told me once that often with patients in these situations the last thing to go is the hearing. So even when they don’t seem to be awake they may still know you’re there, and that comfort may well go beyond anything else they feel at the time. No matter what their perceived mental state or awareness, they may know that they’re not going through this on their own.
Also I remember when I was little and got hurt or upset, my mom would just sit with me and hum softly. To this day I can still feel that comfort. That alone can do much for the soul.
When Sharon’s condition was worsening, Diana and I had planned it out that, when the time came, during Sharon’s last hours we would hold her hand, tell her that we all loved her and that she’d done a great job, she’d fought hard, but now (for her sake, even though we weren’t ok) that it was ok if she had to let go and rest now, and that it wasn’t a goodbye, it was “we will see you later.” (Regrettably, though, we didn’t see the signs soon enough on what was to be her last day.)
I know you’re doing all you can. Remember to go light on yourself. You have a good heart.
When I’m nearing my time, I would want to know I had made a difference in someone’s life. I would want to know I’d be leaving good memories.
It’s reassuring that you’re there to remind her that she’ll always be loved, and your family will not forget her meaningful and eventful life and what she’ll always mean to you.
May you all find comfort in your happy memories together.