When it's your Mom

I remember thinking it was weird that middle Brother was texting and calling me in the morning, since we don't connect that often and we had just texted the night before.

I sat bolt upright in bed when he said, “Aunt called...”, knowing immediately something was wrong.

Mom had been taken to the hospital.

That was a day I was thankful for text messaging! Keeping in touch all day with Brothers, updating with the little news we could.

I remember noticing and thinking small things: that my overnight toiletries bag was still mostly packed; that I'd already made plans to do laundry that day so had something to occupy my mind and would have clean clothes if I needed to travel; that I should try to switch that night's shift to work longer in case I needed to take a few days off.

All the while thinking, hoping it would be a short visit to the hospital; simple test with an easy diagnosis and quick fix. Home again by the time Dad returned from work at a distance. This became less likely as the day wore on.

And Dad wasn't home yet.

I wished I was close enough to relieve oldest Brother at the hospital when he needed to go to work for a few hours. It's times like this that it is difficult to live further away.

Because common is only common until it's your Mom. Routine is only routine until it's your Mom. 

Then your Mom becomes someone other than the rock you've turned to. She becomes the most important person in the world for an entirely different reason. 

It's times like this that I think maybe I should move closer.

It's times like this that I think what if I lived further away?

What if I had moved to England?

What if I had taken that job in BC?

What if... I moved home again?

Later that night oldest Brother shared the news that it would be a longer stay and more invasive fix. I literally shrank into a crouch when he said the doctor suggested it would be a good idea for me and younger Brother to come home. That though unexpected, there are risks with any surgery.

Common and routine then takes a turn. And in that moment, it feels like the whole world is changing. Because it is. Because it's your Mom.

In these moments the true nature of friends and support shines:

Manger at work was great, saying not to worry; to do what I needed to do.

Friend was amazing, I can't even describe how much her words meant: “Please keep in touch this weekend; I want to be the person you call and I'll take time away to talk to you when you need.” 

Amazing, because she had family visiting from out of town.

Because who do you call when the people you'd normally call are going through it with you.

Sitting with friends that night, after plans were made to go to the hospital and my parents' place in the morning, Philip Philips song Home came on. And I smiled – it's become my Peterborough song! The song that helped me realize I felt like standing still for awhile. In a place where I don't feel so alone.

But it also reminded me that Home is never far away, because it can be in many places and in one place all at the same time. Home is where there are people who care about you and who you care about. 

And when it's your Mom, that becomes all that is important!