I lay in a puddle of my own blood and looked into the eyes of an old woman. Her eyes were blue and piercing and I knew her as Death. She had come to claim me.

She beckoned with her wrinkled old hands as a slight smile played on her lips. I could not refuse if I wanted. Something beyond me was causing me to rise up and follow her.

As I stood up and I looked down at my body still laying in the street. I didn’t want to leave me. I wanted to stay.

“You cannot. It is your time.” Deaths voice said as if she could read my mind.

I turned to look at the old woman a little peeved. “Who says it’s my time? Can’t I stay awhile longer? My children will miss me.”

“Your children will be fine. It is your time. It was determined before you were even born.”

“That doesn’t seem fair. I want to go back.”

“Dear One, if you did go back you’d be upsetting the balance. Your death will be mourned and your children will miss you but if you were to stay you would be infringing on their destinies.”

Then Death laid one of her hands upon my shoulders and images flashed through my mind. I saw the lives of my daughter and son, and I saw how my death effected them. It was sad and yet beautiful at the same time.

Great sobs rippled through my chest. I had given them everything I could while I was alive. I had done the best I could by them and myself, and it was enough. My children would take those memories of our time together and make themselves great because of it. My death would give them the power they needed to rise into their best lives possible. Something that would not have been possible if I had lived.

My heart nearly burst with pride and love. I was so thankful to have that precious time with them. And now it was time to begin the next story. Perhaps in time my children, after they had lived their best lives, would join me there.

I then turned to follow the old woman, not knowing where I’d go to next, but appreciating the beautiful life I had lived and the chance to move on to the next adventure.