Today, time feels heavier than it ever has before.
Not because it has stopped—but because every single second suddenly carries a weight it never did before. Each breath, each glance, each quiet moment feels counted, treasured, and fragile all at once.
The room is bright, almost deceptively calm. Machines hum softly in the background, steady and relentless, filling the silence with reminders that this moment matters. And there she is. Calm. Brave. Unshaken on the surface. She looks at me with that familiar strength in her eyes—the look that says, “We will get through this. No matter what.”
Even when my heart trembles, her courage holds us together.
Even when fear tries to take over, her presence becomes an anchor.
I am scared. Scared of the unknown. Scared of the questions with no answers yet. Scared of the what ifs that echo too loudly in my mind. But even here, even now, hope refuses to leave. It sits quietly beside us, persistent and unyielding, reminding me that this is not the end of the story.
She has always been this way—walking through storms without needing applause, carrying strength in silence, finding light when others only see darkness. She has faced life with grace, even when it asked too much of her. And somehow, she always emerged with her kindness intact and her spirit unbroken.
If love alone could protect her, she would be completely surrounded today—wrapped in every prayer, every whispered wish, every unspoken plea from hearts that believe in her. Love fills the room more powerfully than any machine ever could.
So I ask for gentle hands.
For steady hearts.
For moments that move slowly and kindly.
May she come back to us the way she always has—step by step, breath by breath—with the same quiet strength and the same light still shining in her eyes.
Because love is here.
Hope is still standing.
And we are believing—one second at a time. 🤍✨