The night before my Mom died, my Mom was trying to tell me something. But she could barely talk. She kept repeating these words..."This is...". This is what Mom? "This is...". This is what Mom? "This is my last..." This is your last what Mom. "This is my last..." She never did finish telling me what she had to tell me, but I knew in my heart that she was trying to tell me 'this was her last night'. And sure enough, it was her last night. She died the next morning.