Some days never leave your memory, no matter how many years pass. The day I lost my mother is one of those days. The smell of the hospital, the sound of the machines, the heavy silence in the room—it is all still fresh in my mind. But more than the pain of losing her, it was her final words that changed the course of my entire life. It began with something small—a headache, a little fatigue. “I’m feeling cold, I need to see the doctor,” she said quietly that morning. At first, I thought it was nothing serious. Mothers always appear strong, even when their bodies are breaking. She smiled, as if to reassure me, but in her eyes, I could see worry. My heart grew heavy, but I kept pushing it aside. At the hospital, things turned quickly. The doctors rushed in and asked us to wait outside. I stood in the hallway, my hands shaking, whispering prayers I didn’t even know I remembered. The world outside that hospital room felt too fast, while my world stood still. ...