The most memorable moments are the most painful. Sometimes.

These moments are so full of emotion they imprint on your brain.

But they aren’t singular, not unique to you. They’re universal. They connect us—friends, family, strangers.

This is one of those moments.

~

It’s October 2012.

I’m at work, finishing a kayak repair in the shop.

Sanding. Sanding. Sanding.

I’m trying to make a patch as smooth and glossy as the rest of the hull. Trying to distract myself…

The phone rings.

Instinctively, I know it’s not a customer. “Frontenac Outfitters,” I say, “Cory speaking.”

“Cory, it’s your sister.”

A long pause.

“The hospital called. Mom isn’t doing well. I think you should drive down.”

~

Kingston is about two-and-a-half hours from Toronto. I make it there in half the time.

I speed through the city. Speed to find parking. Speed into the hospital.

And then—everything moves in slow motion.

The wait for the elevator.

The ride up to Mom’s floor.

The walk to her room.

I feel cold, but I’m sweating. I’m placid, but my nerves are frayed. I’m there, but I’m disassociated.

I put on a brave face and step into the room. It’s dark. Machines are beeping, IV fluids are dripping.

Mom’s sitting up in bed. She looks tired and worn. She musters a smile. Somehow, it makes me feel safe. Like it always has.

My dad and sister arrive minutes later. Then a nurse walks in. She tells us Mom’s vitals had tanked, but everything is fine now.

“You bugger, you scared the shit out of us,” my dad says, followed by a forced chuckle.

He does this when he’s emotional. So do I.

I look at my mom. Tears well in her eyes. “I’m afraid, Brian.”

My parents are crying now, holding each other. My sister and I stand there. Invisible.

We know what’s coming, know we can’t escape it. We’re not prepared for it, not ready to accept it.

It doesn’t matter. Mom passed away a few weeks later.

~

Most of us think we know what fear is, what it’s like to be afraid.

We think we understand love, too, what it feels like.

Truth is, the depth of these emotions are incomprehensible until you see and feel them in their rawest forms.

To see the instant someone realizes they’re coming to the end of their life. To see how frightened they are, knowing they’re not ready but there’s nothing they can do about it.

To see that person look for the one they care for most. To seek comfort in their arms. To want their touch one last time.

Like I said, some of the most memorable moments are the most painful.

I’ve replayed this one over and over. Sometimes purposefully. Sometimes, it’s just there, on repeat.

I’m overwhelmed every time. By the look in my mom’s eyes, my parents embraced in each other’s arms.

So much fear. So much love.

We think they’re opposites. But you can’t have one without the other.

Because losing someone you love is the greatest fear of all.

Something we all can relate to.