This post is based on a real life happening and it is very poignant for me. Yesterday I received a phone call that related an incident involving my mother who is in her 90s. Tears filled my eyes as I listened, and my heart was filled with many emotions–wonder, sadness and compassion.

My mother was 17 when she married my dad.  They had a happy relationship for over 60 years and when he died she obviously missed him, but she moved to live with my brother in another province and  rebuilt her life.

My brother is one of the best things that ever happened to my mom. He is divorced and is a highway trucker who is on the road for days at a time.  He phoned her every day (still does) and gradually mom found a new interest in living. She’s always had a zest for life, and even though she was in her eighties, she still was vibrant and adventuresome. She would hop the city transit and explore the big city. I admired her spunk: this fragile looking, tiny white haired lady who had no thought of fear in strange surroundings, even though she was totally out of her element.

A few years ago she decided to go into a seniors complex and it has been a wonderful thing for her. The staff and the people there love her and she can socialize as much as she wants. A woman of the same religious persuasion as my mother lives there too. They have known each other for years, but since mom moved there, the acquaintance they had known has grown into a deep love and caring for each other. Where one goes, the other will soon be there, and they worry and fret if the other doesn’t show up when expected. When we go to visit (which isn’t nearly often enough because of the distance) everything we do includes moms friend, and they are like two teenager’s giggling and whispering together.

My brother and I talk on the phone regularly and he has conveyed that moms friend is failing quickly and he is worried about how mom will take it when the lady has to move to the assisted living section and eventually passes from this world. He has talked to both of them, trying to prepare them for the eventuality, and at one time mom told him that she didn’t want to live without her companion.

Yesterday morning mom went to her friends room and found her lying on the floor. I’m certain Mom’s heart felt like it broke. She must have thought the worst. They rushed the woman to the hospital next door.

After she was settled my brother took Mom to see her. He said he didn’t know how mom would react. Her friend looked like death had already taken her, but she was still alive and knew mom. He said the next thing he knew mom had whipped the curtain aside and crawled up on the bed and lay down beside her friend. He said it was all he could do to keep the tears at bay, as he watched mom gather that slip of a woman to her, caressing her hair and her face and rubbing her arms and her hands, telling her softly that she had to get better, because mom missed her and wanted her to come home.

When they left the nurse at the desk asked mom how her friend was and mom told her she had got into bed with her. The nurses in the hospital know my mom well, because she has been in there a few times herself. She just smiled and told mom she could come anytime.

My heart aches for my mom, but I am happy for her too. Many people spend their last years alone, but she and her friend have forged a companionship and a love that is in some ways deeper than what either of them shared with their husbands. Not to disparage their relationships with their spouses or their marriages, but this is truly the last deep love of both of their lives, and to me it is such a beautiful thing to see.

Human relationships always fascinate me, and the relationship between my mom and her friend and the love they have for each other is once again proof that profound love can be found at any time in life, under any circumstance. 

As a foot note I will add here that I often wonder about past lives and the reasons people cross our paths. When I see mom and her friend, I have many thoughts about that. Could they have been together in another existence? Mom has sisters, but she isn’t that close to any of them. And when I see my brother with my mother I am truly touched.  Yes he lives close to her, but it almost seems to be more. He is very caring and yet he doesn’t let her pull anything on him. In many ways he is like a loving parent to her now.  Few sons are as involved in their parents life as my brother is, no matter how old they are.

Could it be a soul connection?  Many scoff at the idea, but I don’t. To me it is another one of the mysteries of life and I believe that anything is possible.