When Mother died of liver failure, we had her cremated, per her wishes.  She wanted to be scattered somewhere, but noone in the family except me remembered where.  I played dumb.  So we shelled out $500 for a very pretty vase...urn, i think they call it...and Dad and I brought her home and put her on a small antique table in the den in front of the tv.  Right next to the recliner she spent most of the last 10 years of her life on.

  "I hate the soap operas," she'd say.  Especially "young and the restless", which she never missed.  There's an arrogant German billionaire in that one who reminded her of Dad, who was of German descent.  When he sneered under his mustache, she'd say, "that's your father."

  Dad had dementia for 10 or 15 years.  The amiable kind.  He never wandered off or anything, though Mom wouldn't have minded too much, I don't think.  "He follows me around everywhere! I can't get a moment's privacy."

  Right before Mom went into the hospital for the last time, when she was loopy from the poisons in her blood that her liver could no longer filter, she called me to her side and said, "Jim, it's time..."

  "For what, Mom?"

  "To put your Father to sleep."

  "Ah."

  "Don't you agree with me?   I can't handle him anymore, and he's just suffering anyway..."

  "Yes, but what would the girls think?"

  "Your sisters? They have no say in this.  It's our decision."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes...."

  "I support any decision you make, Mom...."

  A little later, after she had pondered it awhile, she said, "Well, maybe not yet...you're right, the girls would not approve."

  Mom euthanized herself soon after, as she'd wished, for quite a while, I think.

  Dad lasted a year. 

  In the den, seated in Mom's recliner, with Mom 2 feet away, he's ask, "Where's your mother, Jim? Sleeping?"

  "Yes, Dad."

  "Good. Best not wake her. She needs her rest."