Kerry Robertson was in bed and holding her two daughters' hands, David Bowie's rendition of Sorrow playing softly in the background, when she took her final breath.
The first person in Victoria to be granted a permit to end her life under the state's new voluntary assisted dying laws, the 61-year-old was in a nursing home in Bendigo when she died on July 15.
"The last words she said to us were 'I love you'," her daughter, Nicole Robertson, 33, said.
"She was so peaceful and surrounded by love. It was the way she wanted to leave this world."
The historic Victorian laws came into force on June 19. They allow terminally ill adults who have only six months to live and meet other strict eligibility criteria - such as being able to give informed consent - access to a lethal substance.
Kerry, a mother of three, had battled cancer for almost a decade and had no prospect of a cure. She made an appointment with her specialist to request to end her life the day the legislation came into effect.
In the weeks following, she made a further application to another doctor before writing her final plea.
Ending her own life when the pain became too much to bear was something Kerry spoke openly about. She was determined it wouldn't be the cancer that killed her.
"From the time she was given a terminal diagnosis, mum had always said that she wasn't afraid of dying," Nicole said. "She wasn't afraid of death. But she was terrified of how the cancer would kill her and the pain she would suffer."
Kerry, a grandmother of three, was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2010. The grim diagnosis devastated her, but doctors were hopeful.
She underwent surgery before intensive chemotherapy and radiation. Months later, she was declared cancer free.
Four years would pass before she felt a throbbing, dull pain in the back of her head. Then she began to struggle to move her left leg. Tests revealed the cancer had spread to her bones.
Over the next five years, the cancer slowly invaded her body. It riddled her lungs and then her brain. She lost her vision and her ability to walk unaided.
Despite the best efforts of her palliative care team, her pain never eased and she was left bedridden. When the cancer spread to her liver in March this year, she ceased all treatment.
Kerry had piercing blue eyes that lit up when she laughed. But when her vision deteriorated, her eyes faded to a pale blue.
"She tended to just stare off into nothingness," Nicole said. "Her pupils were kind of like pinpricks and she wouldn't make any facial expressions because she couldn't see what your face was doing. It was so heartbreaking and it was just so cruel."
In her written request to end her life, Kerry wrote that the main reason was loss of joy.
"She couldn't do the things she loved anymore like spending time with her grandchildren," Nicole said. "That was the thing that brought her the most joy and she couldn't do it anymore."
Kerry was spiritual, humble and gentle. She radiated empathy and her kindness drew people to her.
She worked for Australia Post for most of her life before training to be a kinesiologist after her cancer diagnosis because she wanted to help people.
"She was always thinking of other people and had this beautiful and kind nature that made everybody feel comfortable," Nicole said.
She was also fiercely independent. Her mantra was always 'feel the fear, but do it anyway.'
It was with that same courage that she faced the prospect of death, her daughter, Jacqui Hicks, 35, said.
Twenty-six days after she made her first request to end her life, two pharmacists personally delivered the substance, made from a cocktail of drugs already legal in Australia, in a locked box, to her nursing home room.
They arrived shortly before 11am and sat with Kerry and her two daughters as they gently explained the process.
The pharmacists asked Kerry if she consented one last time, before they used a small handful of icing sugar to carefully demonstrate how she would stir the powdered drugs into a prepared liquid substance.
The nurses then came into the room and washed Kerry. They dressed her and combed her hair.
"They were so beautiful and compassionate," Jacqui said.
Kerry had become too ill for visitors in the last weeks of her life. She lay in bed, surrounded by her energy crystals and under the soft, orange glow of her salt lamps as her daughters read aloud letters written to her from her grandchildren and extended family.
They told her how much she was loved.
Her playlist filled with songs by Nick Cave and her first love, David Bowie, hummed in the background as she ate a capricciosa pizza; her favourite meal.
Kerry requested to speak to each of her daughters separately. She told them how much they meant to her.
"Then she told us that she was ready," Jacqui said.
Kerry mixed the lethal powder with a liquid medication then sipped lemonade afterwards as her daughters and best friend Helen sat at her bedside. She drifted into unconsciousness almost immediately and took her final breath about 15 minutes later.
"She left this world with courage and grace, knowing how much she is loved," Nicole said. "For us, that was the greatest part, knowing that we did everything we could to make her happy in life and comfortable in death."
Nicole and Jacqui said their mother's death had reinforced their belief that terminally ill people who are suffering intolerably deserve the choice to end their own life.
"We want our mum's legacy to be the power of sharing her story to help people who are either contemplating or going through this process and their families," Jacqui said.
Western Australia and Queensland are now considering following Victoria's lead and immplementing voluntary assisted-dying legislation.
"We want to push for this to become a national law as we believe everybody has the right to a compassionate death," Jacqui said.
"It's not a political issue, it's about compassion and allowing people to choose how they want to die."
Go Gentle Australia's director Andrew Denton said Kerry's death demonstrated how well the law was operating in Victoria.
"The eligibility criteria were met, the safeguards were worked through, and Kerry Robertsonand her family were offered the compassionate death Kerry wanted," Mr Denton said.
Before she died, Kerry told her children to always look for dragonflies.
They represent change, transformation and understanding the deeper meaning of life.
More information on voluntary assisted dying is available here.