Grandma always said Mom was the kindest, most gentle person she’d ever known.
While other families bickered over petty things, their relationship was rare, like true mother and daughter. They were so close that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.
So when Mom was hospitalized, Grandma, despite her age, went to the hospital every single day.
She fed her by hand and wiped her body clean, never once complaining.
Mom noticed everything. She often said to me that Grandma treated her even better than her own mother did.
And my brother, he was the pride of our whole family.
Ever since he knew Mom wasn’t well, he worked hard without a word of complaint, even from a young age.
After getting accepted into Princeton University, my brother threw himself into studying medicine with an unshakeable focus.
He once said he wanted Mom to live a long and healthy life so our family could be spared the pain of sickness and loss.
When Mom was diagnosed with kidney failure, he didn’t hesitate; he gave up his chance to study abroad without a second thought.
And just like that, he donated one of his kidneys to her.