It was about 3 o’clock in the afternoon on Mother’s Day when I found myself in the Respite House kitchen helping myself to a cup of coffee.
That was when I was approached by a volunteer.
“Have you received one of our brunch bags?” she asked me.
I asked her what ‘brunch bags’ she was referring to.
She reached into a box beside a kitchen counter and the next thing I knew was that I was being handed a medium-sized brown paper shopping bag.
Although I could not see what was inside the bag I did notice that the bag held two long-stem roses.
They were lovely and hard to miss.
One rose was white, the other yellow.
“We’re giving these to all of our mothers today for Mother’s Day,” she said as she handed the bag to me.
“How lovely,” I said as I accepted the offered brunch bag.
It was an extremely kind gesture from the Respite House. I considered this an unexpected and deeply appreciated token of goodwill.
With my brunch bag in one hand and my coffee in the other, I return to Mother’s room to find that the nurses had done a fine job of tending to her needs. They had changed her into a fresh nightgown, made the bed, and had even fluffed her pillow. A small fan in the corner kept the air cool and comfortable.
I leaned over the bed and kissed her cheek. She smelled wonderful.
Seeing that her eyes were open I held up and showed her the brown paper shopping bag.
“Look what I got,” I said with a smile.
A pleasant look of surprise came over her face. I noticed that her cheeks looked a little flushed.
I was curious as to the contents of the brunch bag. However, there was too much tissue in the way to see what was at the bottom of the bag. I would have to wait until later to see what culinary goodies awaited.
Since the volunteer had called it a brunch bag it was safe to assume that the contents included edibles of one sort or another.
Goody, I thought to myself…
Earlier, I had been thinking about what I would have for dinner that night. Mother’s fridge lacked fresh fruits and vegetables. The only item of interest was a jar of expired spaghetti sauce in her cupboard and a package of dried pasta.
Maybe, I could go to the local Friendly’s or even the pizzeria. However, I knew that by the time I left the Respite House I would not have the strength nor will to go and order dinner.
Rest was most important right now.
Whatever was inside the bunch bag would be my dinner.
And thankfully so…
As I put the bag down, I took out one of the roses, the yellow one, and held it out towards Mother.
She smiled at the sight of it.
As I held the rose closer to her nose, she inhaled the fragrance as deeply as she could.
She conveyed the sweetness of the rose’s fragrance with an unmistakable…
Once again, I brought the flower closer to her so that she could enjoy the fragrance of a rose for a second time…
…and most likely, the very last time.
I was keenly aware that this was another Mother Daughter moment that I would remember for the rest of my life.
It was a precious moment.
It was a joyful moment.
And I instinctively knew, that this moment…
Was yet one more gift.
And there were still many more yet to come.