A Miracle and One Last Hug

 by Thomas Martin

Many years ago, I would annually host a Kentucky Derby Party, inviting friends I made at various jobs.  One year, my mother was quite ill and with the date approaching, I decided to forego the party on the off chance something would happen with my mother. 

As an alternative, I contacted many of my closest friends and put together a trip for all of us meet at the Santa Anita Race Track in Arcadia, California.   About 10 friends accepted the invite and I waited as the Sunday drew close. 

About two weeks before the planned day, I started receiving calls that certain friends would not be able to attend.  About one week before the big day my brother called and told me that my mother was not doing well.   Usually, this would have prompted me to plan to visit her over the weekend, but with this event planned, I decided my visit could wait another week.  

As the week progressed, more and more of my friends sent me regrets that they would be unable to attend.   It finally reached the point that it was pointless to go ahead with my Day at the Races!

On the Sunday we were to head out to Santa Anita, I instead showered and dressed and drove the 90 minutes to my parent’s home.  Usually, when I went home, I would take my mother out to lunch, often driving to Palm Springs and enjoying a leisurely lunch at the Ritz Carlton Hotel, with she always relished.

Today would not be such an adventure.

My mother sat limply in her living room chair, not looking well at all.   She had little energy and clearly was in a lot of pain.  I went out locally and picked up lunch for the two of us and brought it home.

She was not really hungry, but she slowly ate part of her lunch.  We talked for some time and it finally reached the point in the afternoon when I knew I must leave and return to my own place. 

I walked over to my mother, still sitting in her chair, I kneeled down, learned forward and wrapped my arms around her.  As I brought my face to the side of her head, I said softly in her ear, “I love you, Mom.”  My closeness caused feedback from her hearing aid.  I’m not certain she even heard my words.

She pulled back slightly and said, “Is something wrong with my hearing aid?”

“No Mom, I just wanted to give you a hug and tell you that I love you.”

Her body’s position looked very uncomfortable as she slouched in the chair.

“Mom, would you like to lie down on the couch?”

“Yes, that would be nice.”

Although my mother had always maintained a very trim, elegant figure, she was now especially thin.  I reached down and picked her up in my arms and carried her over to the couch.   I retrieved a blanket from her bedroom and covered her. 

It would be the last time I saw my mother alive. 

The miracle was that my trip to the race track was cancelled allowing me to spend that last day with my mother.  No one can tell me that it was not the hand of God that made this miracle happen.

The next day, yet another miracle happened.  I called my mother’s youngest brother, who I knew had taken a long trip to North Carolina a few weeks before.  I did not know his status, but I called his home, even though I believed him to still be on the road home.  Thankfully, he answered.  I told him how grateful I was that he was home and he told me that they had arrived the night before.   The drive had been unusually easy, he told me. 

I told him of my mother’s condition and that I felt it important for him to visit her as soon as possible. 

The next day, he called her and he and my aunt went for a nice visit. 

On Saturday morning, my mother was gone. 

I am still grateful to God for arranging for me to have that last Sunday with my mother and for bringing my uncle and aunt quickly home so that they too could see her.