The night my Dad passed away, we really didn't know how little time we had left. He was diagnosed with cancer and died three weeks to the day that they told us what it was. It turned out he had carcinoma, one of the worst cancers out there.
Apparently while my Mom and I left to get my sister, he started going downhill. The nurses said that he struggled horribly that hour and a half we were gone (they didn't have my Mom's cell number for some odd reason to call...they called at home and we weren't there) but when we got there with my sister, his signs leveled out for a few minutes while we said our goodbyes. After the priest came in to give him his last rites, something was said to the effect that my father could go now and rest in peace, and that is when he took his last breath.
To this day I can't type or say what happened with out crying (I am now). It tore me apart to be in the room when that happened, and my Mom didn't discuss the DNR with my sister or I, so we didn't know what was going on.
I do take comfort in the fact that he waited until we were all there to pass on. I'm not sure if he was coherant enough to know we were there or not, but at least we got to say our goodbyes.
BTW, Big Fish tore me up. My bf and I watched that about a month ago and he sort of knew how the ending was going to be, but had no idea what a mental crying mess I would become when I watched it. It took me a few days to get back to normal.