In 1984 in Philadelphia, my mom passed away after a struggle with diabetes. She went into a coma and we never had a chance to say goodbye. At that time, my youngest daughter was about 12 years old and she had developed an abscess in her tooth. We had no health insurance at that time, so I used the last of our money to take her to the dentist, who inserted a tube into her jaw to drain the infection.
That night my daughter was very very ill and we wanted her to rest quietly, so my husband and I let her sleep in our bed and we slept downstairs. In the morning, my daughter awoke and told me how much better she felt after I patted her head and slept in the bed with her.
I did not sleep with her that night, even though I checked on her every now and then. She said the hand and warmth of it was very comforting. I think it was my mom who came to comfort my daughter. She had a full recovery, and even to this day she talks about my mom and the comforting hand.