The Last Hug From Mom.
The last time I saw Mom in person as a fully-conscious, loving, smiling, enjoying person was on Dec. 29, 2014. That afternoon, I was flying from Michigan back to New York.
In the past, my mom hadn't always been able to make the trip to the airport to see me off. Often the flights were too early in the morning and she couldn't get up early enough. Once, when we had to leave around 7:30am for a 9:30am flight, she resolved to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to make sure that she would have enough time to get ready before we had to leave. She made that trip.
For the December flight, I happened to be heading out in the afternoon, and Mom made that trip too.
We stopped by Gabriel's for cheesesteak hoagies on the way to the airport. Their delicious cheesesteaks are always a welcome send off from Michigan. Mom and I ate our sandwiches in the car as we finished the drive to the airport. I had mushrooms, extra cheese and hot peppers. Mom just got mushrooms.
When we got to the airport, mom stayed in the front passenger seat. She opened her door, and I leaned into the car to give her a hug and a kiss. As always, we told each other we loved one another. It was a simple act that we had done many times before, but still always felt meaningful. At some point during the past few years, I had started to become concerned that something would happen to my parents on their drive home from the airport. They might get in a car accident, and when I landed in New York City I would be far away and unable to help. But the next time I spoke to them, my fears would be allayed.
My parents made it home just fine from that trip. But my mom still would never hug me again.