They were friends and neighbours and if it hadn't been for their support, my mother would not have been able to spend the last years of her life living in her own home and enjoying her independence, something that was of utmost importance to her.

Her only child, I lived hundreds of miles away, unable to help out on a day-to-day basis, but I didn't have to worry because I knew Mom's friends and neighbours were nearby.

If there was a problem, I had absolute confidence they would be there within minutes, if not seconds.

If her kitchen light weren't on by seven in the morning, her phone would ring. It would be Chris or Mel, her back yard neighbours, checking to make sure she was all right. Chris dropped in often for coffee and she never went to the store without checking to see if Mom needed anything.

Shirley and Mom were friends since we started building the family home in 1953. She and Mom talked every day either on the phone or across the hedge in the side yard.

Anna and Nick became neighbours five years before Mom passed away. They were "best of friends" within days. Nick was Mom's "mechanic on call" if she had any car problems; Anna often invited Mom over for tea; and the kids were regular visitors for cookies, milk and a chat as they sat around Mom's kitchen table.

When Nick and Anna moved, the Kojah's moved in and the neighbourliness continued. The Kojah kids were a lot older and didn't eat as many cookies but they always came over for a visit when they saw Mom sitting out on the front porch.

I've forgotten the name of the neighbours who moved in a few years after I left home. Their daughters were regular visitors for cookies and milk. Mom talked about them often. She thought they were special and I think they must have felt the same way about her. The girls continued to visit long after they had moved, married and had kids of their own.

And then there was Bruce. He called Mom, "Mom", and she called him, "Number two son." I'm not sure how they met but that doesn't really matter. The fact is they became fast friends. Bruce dropped in two or three times a week on his way home from work and always volunteered to do the little things that needed doing around the house.

Dianne and Cliff were a blessing too. Mom and Dad became her surrogate parents when Dianne first moved to Ottawa as a teenager. They lost touch a few years later when Dianne married and moved away.

Then, after being away for thirty years, Dianne and her family returned and got in touch. After that she called at least once a day and frequently dropped in to visit and help out. "She's like the daughter I never had," Mom often said.

And finally, there was my family: Aunts, Uncles and Cousins. They lived a little further away, but I always knew they'd be there if needed.

When Mom died, I couldn't believe how many hundreds of people attended her funeral, and all of them seemed to have a story to tell about her. It was obvious that she had given more than she received.

"She was always ready and willing to listen and lend a hand," they said.

"She was unconditional love in human form," I said ... They all agreed.

My Mother, her family, friends and neighbours, Neighbourhood Heroes all.