So little time to say hello and much too soon to say goodbye. Although I never met Larry person to person, we communicated by emails. I got to know him by supplying him with a bunch of green japanese maples to use for his grafting. Larry was a generous, giving person, always seemingly thinking of others. I'll miss you, friend. Lynn

I don't know if you will see this, as much time has passed since you posted this, but I could have written your post word for word. My Mom died on Oct 8/08 with the exact same scenarior yours did, including her last moments. The difference is, my mom was able to tell us what she saw, and I'm hoping by letting you know, it might help you. Mom's breast cancer spread to her lungs, liver and bones. She was 47 when she died and my son was 10 months old. They were so close and it kills me that she isn't around anymore to see him (at least physically). It makes me hurt every time I think of it. I was there was she took her last breath too and am haunted by the memories of her death and the day she died. However, she was able to describe to us what she saw and that has helped me, so will maybe help you. The Tuesday morning of the day that she died, she talked all day to people that we couldn't see. At first we thought she was just out of it, but she would have moments where she would open her eyes and say clearly and with intent "I love all of you so much". But mostly she was back and forth between here and the Other Side (for lack of a better word). She was very agitated, yet talked to people in my family who had passed and I swear to you when she said my grandpa was there, you could literally feel him in the room. At one point, she said she saw Jesus at the end of her bed and was happy he was there. She said to us "You should see it, its beautiful". When it came down to the last half an hour of her life, she started to describe a path that she was going down. It was treed and beautiful and at the end of it was a house. She kept saying that she wanted to go in but couldn't find a way in. We told her to look for a door and then about a minute before she died, she said "Ok, you can let me go, I'm in now". Those were the last words she said. At that point, her breathing became very rattled and she focused her eyes up and to the right corner of the room. She took a few more breaths and then cried one single tear and then stopped breathing. For me, it was a horrible, yet amazing experience. I still get very upset over the physical experiences her body went through, but I know in my heart that she felt barely any of that pain as she was mostly with God on the Other side. I am only 25 and miss my mom so much that it physically hurts sometimes. I have been having a hard time with it lately, but then last week, I got an email from my mom's best friend who said that she had a dream about my mom. She said she was younger (about 30) and just beautiful. She said she was at my mom's house (which made me so happy because that is where she said she was going when she died) and that it was beautiful She said there were rocks and trees and gardens everywhere and the house was modest an cozy. My mom showed her around her house but there was one dark room and her friend said "But that room is dark and I can't see anything" and she said "yes, that room is for my daughter, she is in the dark a lot right now but will be bright again very soon". I'm assuming this meant the fact that I have been really depressed lately and that I will start feeling better soon. It was really great to know she was OK and that she still knows me and loves me like she did before. I'm sorry this has been so long but I thought it might help you as we seem to have had almost identical experiences. I hope you can find comfort in my story and know that your mom is OK and still loves you from wherever she is, please don't feel left out, some people are just more open to visits from their loved ones and sometimes we are too clouded by pain and grief to open up. Take care and try to be happy. :)

My father died in September, 2006. He had lung cancer, went into remission, then suffered a stroke, and continually weakened. On Labor Day, 2006, he was admitted to the hospital for tests, which revealed that the cancer had returned and there was nothing else to be done. He died at a hospice on September 16th. He never complained, except when he said he knew he wouldn't be going home again and that he didn't want to be alone (we vowed he would never be alone and kept true to that promise.) After the funeral I stayed with Mama to help her with all of the things that needed to be done. The first night I slept in Daddy's bed. I was in a deep sleep and felt the mattress on the side of the bed "give," as if someone was sitting by me. It was so real to me, and didn't scare me, because I felt his presence. Fast forward to last week. Mama came to visit us for the week and we were sitting outside on the patio, talking about Daddy, when all of a sudden, we saw a shooting star. Perhaps we read too much into signs like these, perhaps not. All I know is it gives us such peace, and that's all that matters.

Instead of intubating my mother on Thursday, we asked the doctors to give her something to at a least help her calm down...they administered a morphine drip...she passed away on Friday morning at 11:30 am. (throughout my mother's numerous hospitalizations, I called the hospital nurses' station to ask about her progress because I was normally caring for her at home; my body clock automatically had me up at specific hours throughtout the night because i would be checking on my mom's oxygen levels, or making sure that she ate to prevent nausea.