During my final minutes in this world, I lay upon my hospital bed listening, probably better than I have ever listened to those surrounding me during my lifetime. It is too late to provide an answer or assure them, but it is my last piece of reality.

I can feel the angels as they linger nearby, simply easing my struggles and reassuring me I will soon be in a far better place. I can feel God's love as their heavenly bodies embrace me.

My son stands at my bedside and cradles my hand in his manly ones. We share a special bond, starting from our struggle together at his birth and throughout the life we shared. We didn't always agree, but we tried to understand and accept the other person. We shared the love of drawing from our inner selves to write stories and scripts for our enjoyment and those who shared them. We talked and shared our struggles.

My heart quivers as I recognize his pain, and I so wish I could tell him to be strong and continue on his own path. The angels reassure me he knows I will always be by his side. The mother in me wants to hold him and ease him through these moments, but I know he knows I loved him beyond words.

He whispers, "It's okay, Mom. Mike and Grandma are waiting for you. I'll be okay." He's the young man I had hoped he would be, caring and reassuring me even in his own time of sorrow and desperation.

Near the foot of the bed, I can hear his sister, wrapped in her friend's arms, sobbing, "It's not fair. We had another fight. She always wanted to be in the middle of my life. Why couldn't she stay out of my business? Now, look what's she's done."

I know she's striking back at me, always wanting to claim her independence. Later, she will regret her anger and scream out at me. She'll be sorry and say I didn't understand the pressure she faced. I wish I could tell her I understood, and I only wanted to protect her from the pain she felt. I hope it will dawn on her; I was and will always be by her side. One day, she might understand how difficult a mother's job can be.

Later, much later, I know she will color the picture differently. She will remember she was the one always there with me when trouble brewed. She'll forget the part of how she fought with me and cursed at the top of her lungs. I wish I could tell her to let it go, but that option is no longer here. She will have decided to accept what is or let it fester through the years.

I sense my last breath is near, and my time on earth is complete. I see my granddaughter and the beautiful young ladies my greats have become in the doorway. Most others who have visited and said their goodbyes will comment on how stoic she seemed; after all, it was her Nana, and they thought we were close. Without any doubt, I know this young lady is crumbling inside, but unlike her grandmother, she will deal with her pain in silence. She will reassure our girls that their Nana will always watch over them and never stop loving them. She won't cry, well, maybe a tear or two in private, but she will also know I understand. She's a survivor, and her battles have been many, but she'll never forget the bond we shared. We will never doubt our love. My heart says she will become the strong one, the achiever, and hopefully the glue that will bind them together.

It's time for me to go. I leave this earth knowing I have tried my best to give all of myself, though I was never perfect. I knew the Lord was with me through everything, and he understood how much love I wanted to share. I was lost in the darkness, but I never let loose of His hand. As my spirit rises into the billowing clouds and brilliant glow, I am at peace. My heart soars as my eyes embrace those I love here on earth and those waiting to welcome me home.