I'm sitting here conflicted. I don't know if I should share my story or even if I cannot.

I got the call late one afternoon. "If you wish to see mother alive you better come right now." I was in Yuma and my mother was in Spokane, Wa. At that time I was her primary caretaker and she was visiting family in Spokane.

My brother woke me up with the call. I often sleep in two shifts per day and this was the first. I told him I didn't think I could get out before morning and promised to keep in close touch. I lied. I only tried to go back to sleep for about 15 minutes then got up and checked flights. No possible way to be there prior to noon their time the next day. I put together a 'fly bag' and got on my motorcycle and hit the road. It was 115F (46C) when I walked out the door. I called my brother from North Las Vegas about 5 hours later to tell him I was on the way. It was a 1500 mi (2400 km) ride. I stopped there to try to catch up with some hydration. I drank two liters of water and stayed until I peed. It was now dark and I was moving on.

By the time the sun came up I was in Wells Nevada. The temp was 26F (-3C). I had to stop. My shivering was inputting my steering. I called my brother to tell him where I was and when I might make it in. He promised to text me when he got to the hospital. Roughly 6 hours later I got a text from my brother to call him. Fearing the absolute worst, I did.

He told me that mom had renaissanced a bit and that we were now measuring the end in days not hours. And to get some sleep so he didn't have to come scrape me off the pavement someplace. He didn't have time.

I made it in time. About noon the next day. Turns out Mom had 5 years for us...

So. I guess the point of all those words is that the age of miracles is still upon us. Enjoy them while you can, they aren't always there.