A few days ago, I sat next to my mom as she spoke of the future. There's still remnants of her six-year battle with cancer visible: her lower left lip is numb, her eyes water, her ears have lost their shape. The cancer hid in her brain and made its way to her central nervous system, so nothing was left untouched. And yet over a decade later she sat next to me at the International House of Pancakes and spoke about wanting to go on a trip with my dad.
She has plans. She's still dreaming. And it gives me hope.
I placed my hand on the side of her face and let her know that a day hasn't gone by without thanking God for extending her lease on life. She wasn't supposed to make it, her fight should have been over. And yet, she fought. Valiantly. Mother's Day means so much to me because I know each day is comprised of borrowed time and I cherish each minute I have with this incredible woman.
Happy Mother's Day, mama.