If You Only Knew

Our plane landed. Home at last. Checking my phone, I read a text from my sister: “Call me when you arrive.” I did.
“Come straight to the rehab center before going home,” she said. “Mom is failing fast.”

The 30-minute drive took forever. I wondered what we’d face upon arrival. Entering the room, I hugged my sister. Tears filled her eyes. “Mom has not been responding today,” she said. We got the update from the nurse. Had we returned just in time to say our final goodbyes?

Mom suddenly opened her eyes and said, “Well, Judy! You’re home. Where have you been?”

Surprised, I said, “We flew to Texas, Mom.”

“That’s a big place,” she said with a smile. Our eyes locked.

Then she exclaimed, “I wish you knew how much I love you!”

My heart skipped a beat. We wouldn’t be saying goodbye today. Mom had rallied once again.

With great relief, our spirits perked up. I told Mom about our trip. She wanted to hear details about her granddaughter and great grandchildren. Later we headed home with gratitude for another day, pondering the mysteries.

Mom’s journey to her heavenly home came a few weeks later. The beauty of love expressed filled those intervening hours—a mother’s fathomless love reflected back to her.