When my mother took her last breath, I had to hold my hand up to silence my brother and sister. Granted she had been in a coma but she died just a few minutes after my sister told her to go.
I didn’t want them to say anything they didn’t want her to hear. We left the room after a few minutes.
I didn’t know about the hearing part when my father died. My mother told me later. Then I tried to think about what he might’ve heard: the crying, the goodbyes, all the good things, but then eventually everyone standing there, talking to each other about his death, that he was no longer suffering, that he was in heaven now... I’ve long wondered what he might’ve heard.