"Glass doesn't just shatter all at once. It starts with cracks, invisible at first, until one day…without warning, the whole thing breaks."
My head was low, I kept staring at the glass window in front of my mom's room, watching the nurses prep her. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and my mom was wheeled out on a gurney.
Two nurses were wheeling her out.
She was in a new hospital gown, her hair was tucked messily under a paper cap.
Her eyes were closed. She didn't move.
The were moving fast, as i ran along pacing behind them.
The steady beep of the portable heart monitor clipped to her IV pole followed them.
I reached for her cold hands, and held it tighter.
"Mom…please… no matter what happens, don't stop fighting. I haven't given up on you. Please… don't give up on yourself. Don't give up on us."
Her eyelids fluttered, maybe she heard me, maybe just from the harsh hallway lights, and then the nurses kept pulling her away.
