Of everything I've put my mind into, my family has never been a part of it. I consider it normal, there's nothing much in to think about. Two working parents two kids and a fine little home. Nothing could ever go wrong. Everything was stable and dependable — until one March day.
It was Thursday morning, and I was busy preparing for my boards exam which was scheduled to begin the next day. My door was shut. Suddenly, I could hear the maid running up the stairs screaming my name. I came out of the room in frustration, expecting some silly reason. It might have been the tears in her eyes or her terrified look, but I knew something was really wrong. Soon, I was downstairs with my family, each with our own tears and terrified looks. My mother was in the basement, seated in a chair, her shoulder being supported by my aunt. She could hardly talk; only murmurs came from her mouth. Her eyes were squinted, and she was breathing heavily.

My dad sent me outside to "wait for the ambulance." I wasn't in any state to argue. In the two or three minutes it took for the medics to get there, my whole life changed. What was happening? What would I do without my mom? Why her? Why me? Why hadn't I told her I loved her more often?

I could hear the sirens in the distance. They sounded light-years away.

When help finally arrived, I ran and begged them to hurry. The medics quickly went to my mother and, after a quick examination, put her in the ambulance and rushed her to the hospital.

Few minutes later dad with some other members followed them to the hospital. I had my exam the following day so I wasn't allowed to join them and was kept under the hospitality of my aunt.

Minutes passed like years, I could neither study nor sleep, I didn't sleep for a second that night thinking of what she must be going through. It was 6 in the morning, and she hadn't gained her consciousness yet. I somehow put on my uniform and gulped a bread and left for school. The sound of an ambulance was still buzzing in my brain and wondering about my mom's innocent face would break me down into tears every other second. My world was crumbling, I was totally helpless sitting in the corner of a room and having everyone stare at me while waiting for the exam to start. I was writing my maths paper, but my mind was flooded with thoughts about my mom of all the times I've been rude to her, of all the times I didn't listen to her and of all the times I've done things against her wish. I regretted doing every tiny thing I wasn't expected to do and not being able to do things I was expected to do. I vowed not to take her for granted again. I badly wished I get one more chance. I wanted my crumbling world to be normal again. On the eleventh night dad called me to say they'll be back the next day. I burst into tears— at last—happy tears. My prayers had been answered. She had recovered from her breakdown.

Since then, I realized that nothing is ever certain. Now when my parents say something, I listen. I don't let the faith they have in me go in vain. I respect them and learning to be a responsible child.

I have come to believe firmly that you don't realize what you have until it is almost taken away.


--
Inspired from Chicken Soup For The Soul
Based on my true life-event.