Some days never leave you. No matter how many years pass, they sit quietly in your memory, waiting for a sound or a thought to bring them back. For me, it was the night I thought I was going to lose my dad.
I was in junior secondary school, and it was an ordinary night. My brother and I were fast asleep, unaware that life was about to jolt us awake. My mum, who had been away for almost two months for her sandwich program, had just come home the day before. I remember thinking how nice it felt having her back, how the house felt complete again. I didn’t know that her return that night was going to be the reason my dad’s story didn’t end there.
Sometime after midnight, a noise broke through the quiet. At first, I thought I was dreaming. Then I heard it again a loud thud, followed by my mum screaming my dad’s name.
I shot out of bed, my heart started beating really fast. My brother and I ran into their room and that’s when I saw him.
My dad was lying on the floor, motionless.
He collapsed while coming out of their bathroom.
I froze. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. This was my dad, my strong, always-in-control dad and now he wasn’t moving. My mum was kneeling beside him, shaking him, calling his name, her voice breaking in ways I’d never heard before. That sound will stay with me forever.
Fear gripped me like ice. My mind was a mess of panic. Is this really happening? Is he gone?
I didn't know what to do I just stood there, nothing was coming, I couldn't think straight
Everything after that felt like a blur of chaos. My mum was crying, trying to think and act at the same time. She couldn’t drive, so we banged on the neighbor’s door, called our pastor, called anyone we thought could help. Thankfully, one neighbor came running and agreed to drive us to the hospital.
I can still remember the ride, my mum holding my dad’s hand, whispering prayers through her tears, while I sat in the backseat trembling. The streets were so quiet, yet it felt like the whole world was screaming inside my chest. I kept praying in my head: Please God, don’t take him. Not like this. Not tonight.
When we got to the hospital, the nurses moved fast, taking him in while we waited outside. Those few minutes felt like hours. My mind went wild with thoughts: What if mum hadn’t come home? What if we woke up to find him gone? The “what ifs” haunted me. I remember standing there, numb and shivering, staring at the doors he disappeared through. My whole little world felt like it was hanging by a thread.
imagine generated using ImageFx
Then finally, a nurse came out and said he was responding. I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. My legs went weak, and all I felt was relief.
That 24 hours changed me. It made me realize how fragile life is, how quickly everything can turn upside down. It made me grateful for my mum, who just happened to be home that night. It made me appreciate family and neighbors who showed up when it mattered.
Even now, whenever I think of that night, I get chills. I imagine what could have happened if my mum wasn’t there, and I feel nothing but gratitude. That day was terrifying… but it reminded me of something I’ll never forget: every single day with the people you love is a gift.