One Terrible Day

It was the kind of morning that seemed to promise nothing but ordinary routine, but the sun hadn't even fully risen when things began to unravel for Tara. She woke to the loud ring of her phone, the shrill sound cutting through the quiet of her room. She glanced at the screen and saw her brother's name flash across it. She answered with a groggy hello, expecting a simple conversation.

"Mom’s collapsed. I’m at the hospital. You need to come, now."

The words hung in the air, sharp and unwelcome. Tara’s heart skipped a beat. Her mother had been unwell for some time, but she hadn’t expected this. She quickly threw on clothes, barely thinking as panic set in. The car ride to the hospital was a blur. The morning traffic was worse than usual, and every second felt like an eternity. Tara could hardly keep her mind focused. Her thoughts bounced between memories of her mother’s smile, her warm voice, and the crushing fear of not knowing what was happening.

When Tara finally reached the hospital, she rushed inside, finding her brother pacing in the waiting area. His face was ashen, and his eyes were wide with concern. Without a word, he pulled her into a tight hug. For a moment, Tara let herself fall into the comfort of his arms, before the harsh reality of the situation hit her again.

"What happened?" Tara managed to whisper.

"We don’t know. They said it was a stroke," her brother said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They’re trying to stabilize her."

Tara’s legs felt like jelly as she sank into a nearby chair. Her mind raced, trying to understand. Her mother, a strong woman who had raised them single-handedly, had always seemed invincible. How could this happen to her?

Hours passed, and Tara sat there, hardly noticing the time slipping by. The sterile smell of the hospital clung to her clothes, the constant beeping of machines echoing in her ears. Her brother had gone in to see their mother several times, but no new information came. With every minute, her hope dwindled just a little bit more.

Finally, the doctor emerged. His face was solemn, his steps slow. Tara’s breath caught in her throat as she stood up.

"How is she?" Tara asked, her voice trembling with fear.

The doctor hesitated, his eyes looking at her with pity. "Your mother’s condition is critical. We’re doing everything we can, but the stroke has caused severe damage. We can’t predict the outcome yet."

The words hit like a physical blow. Tara’s knees buckled, and she gripped the back of a chair for support. Her brother’s arms were around her once more, but it didn’t make the words any less real. They were losing her. They hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Tara could hardly remember the walk to her mother’s room or the quiet moments she spent sitting by her side. The machines kept beeping, a constant reminder of how fragile life truly was. She held her mother’s hand, willing her to wake up, to speak, to give her one last smile. But the room was silent, except for the hum of the machines that kept her mother alive, even though it felt like the woman inside them was already gone.

As evening fell, Tara finally left her mother’s side. The sun was setting, and the world outside seemed to move on as if nothing had changed. The familiar streets of the city looked the same, the shops open, the cars honking, people going about their lives. It felt wrong. How could everything be normal when her world was falling apart?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Tara reluctantly pulled it out, her fingers shaking. It was a message from her boss, asking for an update on the project she’d been working on. Tara stared at the screen for a moment, her thoughts disconnected, before she typed a quick response, promising to send the necessary updates soon.

The truth was, she didn’t care about the project anymore. She didn’t care about anything except her mother. But even as she sat in her car, overwhelmed with grief and disbelief, Tara knew that life, in all its chaos and unpredictability, would continue whether she was ready for it or not. And somehow, she'd have to face it—one terrible day at a time.