Yeah, my grandfather did that too.

He'd been stuck in the liminal stage for weeks and my father (his son) never left his side.

Then one day I felt that I ought to sit by his bed and sing all the songs that were popular in the house when my siblings and I were growing up and he was in early middle age. (Our grandparents raised us.) I hadn't seen him in a while and when I saw him he looked very different. He lay in the bed motionless, surrounded by all sorts of tubes and contraptions. He had lost a lot of weight and his mouth gaped open like Munch's painting "The Scream."

As I sang, my grandfather stirred with a last flicker of life, and moved one foot in time with the music. I had the sense that I was doing something very necessary as one song after another came to mind and I sang them all.

I left afterward. My father also left, to have a shower. Grampa was alone for a little bit and during that time he passed on. I had a sense that he wanted privacy to die, kind of like going to the bathroom.

I don't know why I sat by his bed and sang all his songs. That's not a custom in my family or in any culture that I know of. However, I'm from New Orleans, and 23 and Me says I have ancestors -- probably sailors --from all over the world. Sometimes they ask me to do things so I do them. If anyone knows where this comes from I’d appreciate you letting me know.

All I know is, it was something that needed to be done. And something that I had to do because no one else could do it.

RIP, Grandpa. Thanks for fixing things and building things and keeping food on our table. I hope the beer and tobacco over there is good.