I was born to a very young, teenage mother with profound emotional and mental entropy. Consequently, my grandparents, who were the traditional age of most parents in my generation, somewhat adopted me as their own. They were unconditionally loving and very attentive to every need that was neglected or abused by my birth mother and eventually her abusive husband.

My grandmother, (who I'll refer to as my mother now) had seemingly been sick her entire life. Or at least for all of mine. She had survived 4 massive heart attacks, breast cancer, heart disease...yet what finally took her from this realm was Pulmonary Fibrosis. She lasted 16 months from diagnosis. A very long, painful and excruciating 16 months. She had become someone I did not recognize, physically and mentally. We spoke freely of death at times. She would shiver and cry at the thought of what would inevitably happen. She was my best friend, and I comforted her as best I could.

As her breathing became worse, her chest pains increased, she seemed to know it wouldn't be long. As I bathed her and poured hot water over the parts of her back that cradled scarred lungs, she said to me, 'If there's a way to come back, to let you know I'm alright, I promise I will come to you.'

I received the call on a Saturday afternoon. My grandfather had an urgency to his voice, although he was asking me to do something not out of the ordinary over these past 16 months. Your grandmother passed out and collapsed, I can't lift her, he said.

I raced with my 5 year old, a drive that took a few moments, for what seemed like eternity. I held her in my arms on the bathroom floor, said my goodbyes. To this day, I'm unsure of what exactly happened, even as a nurse who understood the medical aspects of her illnesses. I felt no pulse, her body was still warm, and a single tear fell from her eye as I told her I loved her. It's burned into my mind.

After hospice came to officially pronounce her, the mortician came to collect her, and it was only myself and grandfather left...i decided not to leave him alone that night. He was a gentle giant, not prone to showing true emotion...and I watched him struggle to process. He had the other nurses take off my mother's necklace and handed it to me, one of her most prized possessions of great sentiment. 'She wanted you to have this'. My pain was palpable.

That night I brought home food, we enjoyed a bowl of marijuana together and greeted family who came to pay respects. Exhausted, I finally resigned to bed at 10pm. This is where my experience started.

I woke up all at once, abrupt and harshly, from a deep sleep. It was 3am. I felt overwhelming fear and anxiety...but as soon as I began to feel this way, it was as if a hand was placed beneath the essence of my existence, and (for lack of a better explanation), an all encompassing blanket of safety, love and a general understanding that everything was okay. As if it had resided inside me and touched every surface of me internally. Each time I began to panic out of confusion, it felt like a firm but ever so gentle hand shoved the negative feelings back down, and I was safe again.

I remember thinking, 'This is okay. I'm going to be okay. She's okay.' And choosing to not fight the peace with my fear or anxiety anymore.

I'm not sure how long the feeling lasted. I think it was an hour, but it could have been slightly longer. All I do remember is physically feeling...whatever This was...leaving my body. Very, very gently. Very slowly. Almost as if the warmth and peace and love travelled from the tip of my head downward, and exited from my limbs/very core. When I felt the last of it leave me, the fear and anxiety and sorrow flooded me with such violent force, I was hysterical for 5 hours straight. I felt the greatest feeling of emptiness, aloneness, cold. I instantly knew she was gone for good.

I've tried to explain this experience to others. It either makes them uncomfortable or I get the feeling they are incredulous, but being polite for my sake. I've chosen to cope by reading everyone's stories and experiences...and I've found profound peace and a large shift in perspective. Not only of life as it is, but death as well. I now feel because of this experience and what I've learned, it will guide my choices for the rest of my life, and hopefully lead me in fulfilling my purpose, and someday seeing her again. I feel like she gave me the greatest gift anyone could ever give someone bogged down in this dimensional plain.

**Extra**

My biological mother had gone to a 'medium' for a psychic reading, which I typically found to just be a way of tricking people out of money. Several things she told my mother, I find myself trying to analyze.

She had asked if someone just had a birthday...which I had. As did my daughter. The psychic said there was an immeasurable bond between a grandchild and this grandmother, and that the grandmother was with her always. Unsure if myself or my daughter. That the grandmother was with this grandchild always. Guides her. Is it my daughter? Could it be the necklace I wear that she died with? The being that took over me in such a profound way?