My mom and I never really got along. Ever since I can remember we used to clash because our personalities were so different. I still loved her despite me giving her attitude when she said something to make me upset but I don’t think I ever really appreciated her when I was younger until I got into high school. We got closer because we kind of started to learn how the other worked. Basically, we both tried not to actively piss the other off. It was cool being close with my mom just because we would go on shopping trips or lunch dates often or just drive around together.

I remember thinking to myself wow this is great, and then June 11th, 2018 came around. I remember being on edge that day because Mom was admitted into the hospital. Her stomach had been bothering her but everyone just brushed it off as food poisoning. She just knew something was off in the middle of the night so she shook my dad awake, picked up her bag, changed out of pajamas because if I’ve learned anything from her it’s that you don’t leave the house in pajamas, and drove to the hospital.

I had had finals coming up so I couldn’t afford to miss school and “colleges always look at your junior year grades” had been looming over my head all year. The day went on normally enough and I had been picked up by my grandma from school who took my brother and I to the hospital. The hospital smelled like rubbing alcohol but felt like dread in the pit of your stomach. Walking through those doors couldn’t have prepared me for what my mom’s diagnosis was. The hospital may as well been a labyrinth what with all the twisting hallways that never seemed to end and the various floors and wings.

I had known something bad was up when my whole family started trickling in to my mom’s room. It was a beautiful day out and I had sat perched on the windowsill while my family made conversation. My mom looked healthy as I saw her talking to my dad as her eyes darted around looking at everyone. I don’t remember what I was doing when the words rang out “So I have ovarian cancer” but I do remember feeling like someone had just sucker punched me in the gut and I got the wind knocked out of me.

I didn’t cry at first. I just sat there on the sunny windowsill, a million thoughts swirling around in my head. I could hear my other family members crying and I looked over to see my brother with tears silently streaming down his face. My dad just stared at the floor with a blank expression, already knowing what the diagnosis was and not being able to fully process it. Finally, my brother asked what stage it was and my mom just responded “4” and he broke down in sobs. In that moment, I promised myself that the little spats that my mom and I had didn’t matter and I was filled with regret. From that moment on, I savored every moment and lived without any regrets.

It was a long year before my mom was in the clear but in that year my entire family became undeniable closer. It’s sad that it took all of that just for us to get to that point but it was also a blessing in disguise. We enjoyed all the moments we spent together because life just has a funny way of throwing things off course. My mom being diagnosed with cancer lead me to grow into the spontaneous person I am today. I savor life’s moments and take advantage of the good times when they roll around and remember them when the hard times come. I live my life a little more risky because you honestly never know what tomorrow is going to hold.