Tim Hortons’ coffee was one of the few things Ma could still taste. Her taste buds were destroyed from all of the medications she’d been on for thirteen years. She’d darkened death’s door many times in those years, but today was the day, at 83 years of age, that she would walk through it. She was in ICU and signed the papers for palliative care. Technology could keep her alive, but it was not the coherent life that she wanted. Very few would choose to live on a machine.

Ma was a woman hardened by life. She had a rough childhood, a marriage to an unfaithful spouse that ended with divorce, followed by a relationship with an alcoholic that had its own challenges. She went from monetary riches in her marriage to financial struggles as a single mom. The circumstances and decisions created a difficult life for her, and her last two years were the worst physically. Stubborn Polish woman that she was – she refused to walk after breaking her femur. It “hurt too much,” she said as she dealt with her limited mobility.

Thus we were in ICU, the papers were signed, and now we waited for Ma to die. My daughter, niece and I were in the room with Ma. My brother called from the Tim Hortons in the lobby with the question, “Does Ma want her last cup of coffee?” I thought for a brief moment and replied, “Yes.”

I hung up the phone and got Ma’s attention.

“Ma, guess what? Bob is bringing you Tim Hortons’ coffee.”

In her grumbling voice, “I don’t want any coffee.”

“We’ve got to do one last thing for our boy.”

“Alright.” she said.

I asked the nurse to hold off on stopping the medications that were keeping Ma alive until the coffee came. I also asked for a spoon since Ma had not sat up in days. She stayed in a reclined position in the hospital bed. The only way she was having that coffee was if I fed it to her.

Bob brought the coffee and Ma had a few spoons of it. Then she started moving around in the bed and we couldn’t figure out what she was trying to do. It looked like she was trying to push herself to sit up straight. I asked her what she was doing.

“I want the cup.”

We all watched in amazement as she sat up, took the coffee cup in her right hand and drank it.

Then she lay back down as we observed her act of love in silence.

Yes she’d had a rough life. Yes she was a difficult woman. Yes she was a mother.

A mother’s love is unique, and it can defy odds. Ma did pass peacefully a few hours after drinking her last cup of coffee. Her last act on this earth was doing one more thing for her boy.