The hospital news hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt like my world had been turned upside down. My mum, the woman who had always been there for me, who had supported me through thick and thin, was fighting for her life. The thought of losing her was unbearable. I became withdrawn, quieter than usual. My dorm mates bombarded me with questions, but I couldn't bring myself to share my pain.
In class, Sharafina noticed the change in me. She asked if everything was okay, but I brushed her off. I wasn't ready to talk about it. I knew she'd be concerned, but I needed time to process my emotions.
As the days passed, I struggled to focus on my studies. My mind kept wandering back to my mum. I wondered if she was getting better, if she'd be back home soon. The uncertainty was suffocating. I felt like I was walking around in a daze, going through the motions of daily life without any real purpose.
One day, while walking in the school compound, I ran into Senior Smith. He noticed my distant look and asked if I was okay. I hesitated, then opened up to him about my mum's condition. He listened attentively, offering words of comfort and encouragement.
"Your mum is a strong woman," he said. "She'll get through this. You just have to stay positive and focus on your studies."
His words resonated with me. I realized that I wasn't alone in this struggle. There were people who cared, who wanted to help. I began to open up to Sharafina and my other friends. They listened, offered support, and prayed with me.
As I navigated this challenging time, I learned the value of vulnerability. I learned to lean on others, to trust in their kindness and compassion. And I learned to hold on to hope, to believe that my mum would get better.
The journey ahead would be long and arduous, but I was no longer alone. I had friends who cared, and I had faith that would carry me through.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. My mum's condition slowly improved, and she was finally discharged from the hospital. I was overjoyed when I saw her walking towards me, a smile on her face.
"I'm home, baby," she said, hugging me tightly.
Tears of joy streamed down my face as I held her close. I had missed her so much, and I was grateful to have her back home.
As she recovered, I realized that life was precious, and every moment counted. I made a promise to myself to cherish every moment with my loved ones, to appreciate the little things in life.
My mum's illness had taught me a valuable lesson. It had shown me that life was unpredictable, and that every day was a gift. I was grateful for the experience, difficult as it was, because it had made me stronger and more appreciative of the people in my life.