She'd got the call just as she was walking out the door for Sunday School. Her mother needed her.
"I've somehow got my walker stuck between the bedroom and the bathroom and I can't get it lose. I don't know what to do," her mother's voice sounded shaky.
"I'll be right there."
Her time was not her own. Ever since her mother had become sick two years earlier she decided that life is short, her mother would not always be with her, and that she should not only savor the moments but be there for her as well. Two years of being there was wearing thin. She glanced in her rearview mirror to note a good hair day. Wasted on being a caregiver to her mother. She sighed. When would she have a life again?
"There ya go, Mom." She said, freeing the walker and forcing a smile. Mom scuffed to the bathroom while her daughter made toast for breakfast.
"This is the best toast I've ever eaten," said her mom. She smiled, happy to please and no longer thinking of how inconvenienced this trip was for her. Glancing down at her watch she realized Sunday School had already started. "Would you like another couple slices?" She asked her mother.
"Oh boy, would I ever!"
She was convinced that it wasn't the toast that was filling her mother with satisfaction, but rather the love from a daughter who was willing to drop everything to be with her.
When breakfast was finished, the two of them talked, laughed and reminisced.
"When you kids were younger, I'd always remind you to get your flower at church on this day. I figured with the six of you, I'd have enough to plant a nice little flower garden out front."
Petunias. Always petunias.
Her mother apologized for taking her away from her own children on Mother's Day. She reminded her mother that there was no other place she'd rather be, than with her own mother.
Two months later, her mother was gone.