When my grandfather died I had heavy anxiety every day for weeks following, and only recently have I stopped having nightmares about him. But I almost miss the nightmares because they represented to me how much I really miss him and I am sad not to see him in my dreams anymore.
He was already gone by the time he reached the hospital, he had been dead too long by the time the ER resuscitated him and he suffered brain damage from the lack of oxygen. But the doctors tried all they could and our family basically lived at the hospital for days hoping so badly that he would wake his vegetative state. Visitations were the hardest for me, I would always break down at his bedside. When the doctors finally determined that he would was beyond hope of recovery, my family decided it would be best to "pull the plug" and let him pass. Me and my sister were the only ones that could bear to stay with him in his last moments. The nurse did her thing and you could see his heartbeat slowly start dropping lower and lower, it would take 5-15 minutes before it would finally reach 0. We hugged him and said our goodbyes, crying the whole time and when the machine finally showed he had no life left in him, it offered a very odd emotional feeling. He had been "gone" for days at that point but this was final and we had to accept that he really was dead.
The other major life and death situation in my life came from my brother. He has been a drug addict so long that it pretty much defines his whole life and the people he hang's around. One night, I was out with my aunt, mother, and grandmother and I received a phone call from my grandfather. He tells me that my brother has been shot, and at the time I could only think that it was just some kind of cruel joke(which is something my grandpa loved). But he told me again and asked me to inform my family to go to one of the local gas stations where my brother was. I couldn't tell my family that he had been shot, especially my mother who would have completely freaked out. It was just too difficult for me. I said that he had been in a "accident" and that we needed to get to this location, and we were on our way immediately.
We arrive at the gas station(there is only two in the city) and I see him lying on the sidewalk outside the store with no shirt on, the cashier stopping the bleeding from his head as a small crowd begins to show up wondering/gossiping about what had happened. The bullet hit right above his right eye and completely took it out. The closest hospital was too far for normal ambulance trucks to take him so we had to wait for a helicopter to pick him up from the nearby baseball field(which the ambulance would take him too). The whole situation was pretty surreal but I was left almost emotionless, as my bro's life was in the balance. He did live, the bullet hit him at such an angle that it entered his skull and left without hitting his brain.
The story is that he was was sitting in his car with his window rolled down, showing off his gun to his drug dealer outside the car. For whatever reason, his drug dealer decides to take the gun and when my brother tries to stop him and the guy just shoots him right there. He then drives the car about 1-2 miles away to the nearest gas station, trying to get away to somewhere safe. This story showed up in the news, and you can find it on the internet too. Of course, the news describes it as a drug deal gone bad... This event did not scare my brother into a better life however. He is currently in jail again, facing prison time(though unlikely) for many different things.