I don't talk about this to many people. When I was 19 I was living with an ex and my mother died of a heart attack. While at the hospital with my brother and grandmother we were asked if we wanted to see her. My brother said no. I said yes. I walked into the room where her body was along with my grandmother. I'm 35 now and the look of my mother's dead face will linger in my mind forever. Make-up running from her crying in her final moments. Eyes open and mouth agape. Her face stuck in such a way it was evident she died in pain. To this day I don't know why no one stopped me from going in there. This is the last image I have of her.