I don't remember the last words my dad said before he passed. We had some irrelevant chitchat about my daily life, and I got him something to drink or similar.
But as I left that evening and we said good night, he reached out and we shook hands, something we almost never did.
And in that moment, the few seconds as we shook hands in silence and just looked at each other, I felt a deep, profound connection. All of me could feel that he was saying his final goodbye, and I thanked him in silence.
He passed away the next morning before I got back. He'd told the nurse and doctor he didn't want more oxygen, which they honored, and after a short while he slept for good.
So in a way I never got to have a final word with him. But I'm very glad we got to say goodbye.