My father died of cancer at the age of 55. My mother, myself, and one of my siblings were in the hospital room with him for most of the day on that last day of his life. We didn't know exactly how close he was to the end, but we knew it would be soon. That afternoon, I took my mom to get a quick bite to eat, she hadn't eaten anything all day. We were gone for maybe a half hour, and when we came back to the room, we found out that he had passed on. I guess sometimes we just aren't meant to see the last moment.