I am laying in a bed and my mother and Corinne and Dwight are there. We are talking. I say to my mother, "You and my father, but mostly you, are very injured people. I don't know how you stood it all this time." She smiles and agrees it has been hard. I say, "You could work on it; it would be hard but it could be done." She agrees. Then she asks what I want to do, and I say, "I want to live on an island near a big city and do my writing and my art work." My mother looks at a painting of a wooded area I did and says, "It is good work." I feel warm and appreciated and acknowledged.