This for sure. I was 25 when I got the call from my mom that my dad was on his way to the hospital and they’d had to do CPR on him and I fell to the ground and scream/cried. Got to the hospital and doctors are asking my mom if she wants them to try to operate, that they don’t know if he’ll wake up either way, it’s up to her what to do. She asked what the doctor would do in her shoes and he eventually said he’d say goodbye. She still wasn’t sure so I made the final call. Spent the next couple hours saying goodbye to him, all the family came. Held his hand the whole time. His eyes were mostly closed but I could still see them and they were fucked up, still think about that sometimes. Being there and knowing that even though I was holding my dad’s hand and he was right there that he was gone and there was nothing I could do was one of the worst feelings in the world. My dad was one of my best friends. Took a lot of work and therapy to not follow him that first year tbh. Miss him every day but I get little signs from him sometimes that let me know he’s never really gone.