It was November 1999
I had just started law school a few months earlier, and was home for Thanksgiving.
I walked through my parents’ entryway, the hallway, and into the kitchen. There was my mom under the bright kitchen lights. She stretched out her long arms and gave me a hug. There was so much sorrow, so much uncertainty, so much love in that hug.
There was life before that hug. And life after that hug.
Two days later on Thanksgiving Day, my mom would have a grandmal seizure and end up in the local ER.
Late that night she received a diagnosis of glioblastoma. We were devastated to learn she had a tumor the size of a golf ball growing in the center of her brain.
Three days later, we were in Salt Lake City, sitting in a waiting room next to a vending machine, preparing for emergency surgery the following day with one of the top brain surgeons in the world.