A few posts ago was about my Mother’s birthday.

If you haven’t or don’t want to read it, I wrote about how the plans to visit my mother fell through. My sisters and brother didn’t co-ordinate well enough and I was left sitting in Toronto with no bus ticket nor further transportation to actually visit my mother.

So why couldn’t I just go by myself to see her?

Well, because it’s not possible for me. Her home is in the middle of nowhere. The town doesn’t even have their own public transit, never mind a bus terminal. Only accessible by car, my youngest sister was supposed to have procured a ride for all of us upon gathering in London.

Now, the miracle. It’s almost 1AM, just a few hours after posting the original blog post, and I get a Facebook message.

Do you want a ride to see your mother?

I was so stymied that all I could do was stare at the screen of my phone and wonder if this person was being serious.

I accepted, thinking that we would go sometime later, and eventually be forgotten. This seems to be the norm that I’ve come to accept from people in my life.

He said that we would go in the morning but there were a few things to do first.

WAIT. What?

Upon realizing that he was 110% serious, I actually started bawling. Not, a tear down your cheek, but I was between smiling and breaking down because this person (I should say these people) had selflessly volunteered their day to take me to see my ill mother.

Even now, I can’t believe that we actually went.

My heart swelled when they drove up to the front of the house and got out to greet us. I almost started crying again.

I got to spend time with my mother; Gabriel got to meet her. She’s really sick but takes one day at a time. She was certainly more lucid than she was last time I saw her.

She’s looking TONS better than when I saw her last – she was akin to a ghost in a nightgown. She had a healthy glow to her skin, she had gained weight from eating properly, and most importantly, she was happy.

I brought her pictures of my youngest sister and also some of when Natasha and I actually were sister-like. I also brought baby pictures that she was in. It was heartbreaking to see her almost cry when she was looking at them.

For the first ten minutes of our visit, we were attached longer than not; the constant hugging and kisses were proof of how grateful she was that I had come to see her.

I cannot express enough how grateful I am to these people; they gave up their day off and spent it with Gabriel and I on a day trip to see my mother.

I can only hope that one day I am as selfless and wonderful as these two people. Because of them, I was able to reconnect with my mother before anything happened to her.

Thank you so much! I will never forget this.

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