As the rain drops filled the gutters and streamed down the side of my house, I picked up the phone to remind my mother and one of my two brothers about our Mother’s Day lunch plans. I feared the inclement weather would makes us all want to curl up in bed rather than going out.

When I rolled over to rest for just a few more minutes, the phone rang.

“You may not want to come today,” my mother said with sadness his voice.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Aunt Lola is not at the nursing home.”

I gasped quietly and thought, where is she? Please don’t tell me the worst has happened.

“She’s in the hospital with an infection and they don’t know if they are going to keep her. So, if you don’t feel like coming it’s okay.”

I exhaled and said, “we won’t go to the nursing home then. But, I’ll be there at one.”

I wanted to get to mother’s side more than ever before. She deserved a good day; a few carefree hours to laugh without worrying about her sisters struggles or her own Cancer battle.

I arrived early to find her gleefully prepping her clothes for our outing. She’d found a shirt to cover her chemo pack and the port in her chest. My father was nearby. He took out his medications and willingly swallowed them all before we headed to a restaurant a short distance away.

I limped inside without my cane and was greeted by my brother and his fiancé. We’d all assembled for one cause; to make each other feel normal, safe loved and accepted. And. We did. We told stories, messed with the waiter, poked fun at each other and made a new memory.

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