My favorite mug and a break down

I bought this mug at Starbucks on Downer during a book reading at Boswells bookstore, it was soon to become my favorite mug.  It has a cool lid that pushes on and then you secure it with a twist of the outside band.  It is  a tad larger for a full cup of coffee or equivalent to a grande cafe.  Anyway, we and by we I mean my brother, sister in law and myself are  in the process of dealing with my mom.  She cannot live alone anymore, she has to have 24 hour care or assistance.  She will not be walking, she will probably be confined to a wheel chair and this is to prevent her from falling which she did in her apartment daily.  She has been extremely lucky to not have broken any bones and misses hitting her head by cleverly curling into a ball like a potato bug, when she does fall.  She will be moving into Assisted living and it is a family type group home and she will have her own private bedroom.  There is a mountain of paper work involved and do this and do that and tell them this and today I spent a minimum of four hours on the phone, in preparation for a move next Tuesday.  Last week we met with the funeral home director to prepay for funeral services which by the way if you have aging parents is highly recommended, that money is not considered in their assets and is not taxable.  So I grabbed my favorite mug with coffee and headed to the Rehab to meet for this preplanning stuff and had to leave quickly after for a hair appt.  I left my mug behind and my mom called to tell me, that my mug was still here.  I sighed with relief and said "oh thanks mom that's my favorite mug" the next day they were in what they call lock down, there was a case of the flu on her wing, no visitors, no leaving the wing.  So one day went into another and with phone contact and not being able to visit, I think she felt we left her.  So yesterday we finally got the OK to visit and Cheryl and I dropped in and I looked around and didn't see the mug, and then we got caught up on conversation and forgot to ask about it.  Today I asked where my mug was and she said "I threw it out"  point blank, just threw it out.  I really didn't believer her and did some errands and stopped in and she said , no I threw it out, I thought it was cardboard.  I said it was ceramic how could you not know?  Part of me wants to believe she made an honest mistake but knowing my mom and her history, part of me knows she can be mean, so I really can't just let her off the hook.  I left shortly after that and got in the car and started to cry...I really don't think it is the mug, it is all of the stress of this situation, are we doing the right thing with mom, is she going to love/hate the new place?  Is this going to work out Ok or not?  If you have not gone through this, let me tell you there is nothing you can do to prepare for this moment.   It is horribly stressful and so much red tape and hoops to jump through, it is unbelievable.  I can cry about it who cares....then I had a thought maybe I can stop in at Starbucks and see if they have another mug, just by chance.  Now I look like a street person, I have my black sleeping bag coat on, my dalmation spotted  scarf and a red hoodie sweatshirt with the hood up.   I see Chrismas mugs left and begin my hunt looking behind other mugs and please just one more mug...no luck.  I go to the counter and order a Chai tea and mention the mug and wonder if they have any left.  The young pretty girl says "I just sold the last one about 1/2 hour ago"  that did it, I started to cry and said and get this 56 years old "my mom just threw mine out and it was my favorite and and it really isn't about the mug and I'm sorry, she is old and sob sob, sniffle"  The other girl chimes in, hey I think they had some this morning at Holt ave.  "can you give me the number?  better yet she says, I'll call them...Oh thank you!!!  She says they have two and I said I'll take them both, I will go right over there.  Thanks so much and I'm really sorry to have blubbered, she slid the Chai tea over and said quietly, it's on us....Merry Christmas.....that made me cry some more but knew enough to get out of there before they called the pity police.  What gentle spirits they were, in a time when I was unraveling, a bare exposed nerve, inside and outside.  I hope I can pass that gentle spirit on when someone else has a melt down.  I hope someone will be kind to them when they need a tissue to dry their eyes, even when they are almost 60 years old.  It really isn't about the mug, now is it?