It was a Thursday afternoon at 5:33 PM. I was rushing to get all of my work done before I had to leave for the day. I was standing in front of the drawers containing the investment files, struggling to pull all of the investment files for the tax clients who were scheduled to see Lynn the following week. Just as I was contemplating how to move a towering stack of emerald green folders, the phone rang.
"Lynco Financial & Tax Services, this is Christina; how can I help you?" Breathless, because I had barely reached the phone before the fourth ring.
"Have you checked your cell phone lately?" My sister, Sara, in a weirdly intense and accusatory tone.
Then, getting defensive, I replied, "No, I'm at work."
"Mom just had a heart attack. We're at the hospital now. She's in surgery getting a stent put in."
The words "mom" and "heart attack" kept reverberating in my mind. They couldn't be in the same sentence. The two nouns couldn't be related. My mom? Had a heart attack? For a second, I forgot how to breathe; then I realized it was because the tears were already trying to choke me.
MY MOM. HAD A HEART ATTACK. It finally clicked in my brain. Sara had given the phone to my other sister, Jessica, who was calmly relaying more details.
"I'll be there as soon as I can."
