She shook her head, her eyes shining with fear. “I haven’t been in a hospital since I got my implant. What if they put me under, and I don’t wake up? I’ll never see either of you again. Or your father.”

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “We got in a fight about his work the last time he was home. He has been promising to switch jobs ‘soon’ for years. So, I threatened to divorce him if he didn’t make a change. But he got so angry with me, he stormed out. And I haven’t seen him since. What if that’s the last thing he remembers about me? All my anger and none of the love?”

Her voice broke. And the tears that had only been trembling in her eyes beforehand began to roll down her face.

I cursed silently at my father for not being here with her. There wasn’t a big enough hospital room in the world to make up for not having her husband here when she was this scared.

I wanted so badly to hug her. But with her implant on the fritz, that would mean she wouldn’t be able to see my lips or hands as I assured her, “That won’t happen. You’ll see him again.”

“It could happen. It was in the paperwork you gave me. They said there was a chance I wouldn’t survive the surgery. And if they can’t cut out the cancer, I might not survive after that anyway.”

My heart squeezed painfully at the thought of my mom dying just a little while after we finally made up…. Nine years of silence. Why were we so stupid and stubborn? I’d never forgive myself if either of those hypothetical outcomes came to pass.

So, I insisted to both of us, “Mom, it’s going to be okay. It has to be.”

My fierce reassurance made even more tears roll out of her eyes.

“I wasted so much of my life waiting on him. Being angry at you.” She looked up at me mournfully. “Dawn, I was so sure you had failed me. But when I needed someone the most, you were the only one who showed up. Why was I so mean to you? Nine years…”

My chest cracked open at her question. “Mom, you were an immigrant who didn’t know she was about to lose all of her hearing when you moved to this country. You were an exceptional mother. Do you hear me? You raised me right. You made sure I got good grades and stayed on task, and you made my favorite meal every week. I loved—I still love you so much. Even nine years of silence can’t change that.”