Surrender 01 - Surrender

always leaned on her — never before she’d lost her and then found her again.
    “Please. Where is she?” Ari asked breathlessly , the words barely making it past her throat.
    “Right this way.”
    The nurse turned and started leading Ari down a maze of hallways, toward the intensive care unit. When they reached the door to her mother’s room , Ari suddenly found herself afraid to turn the handle .
    The thought crossed her mind that she'd open that door and it would all be a cruel joke. Her hopes dashed, she’d have to deal with the pain of losing the most important person in her life all over again.
    “Take a few moments if you’d like before you go inside,” the nurse offered before leaving Ari to sort through her overwhelming emotions.
    With a deep steadying breath , Ari pushed the door open and stepped inside . She found her mother sitting up in bed, looking extremely frail, but with her beautiful green eyes open. Ari blinked just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
    “Mom?”
    “Ari! Come sit with me,” her mom responded weakly as a small smile lit up her pale face. Ari needed no other encouragement. She rushed to the bedside, bent down to feel her mother's warm arms wrap around her once again , and reveled in the contentment of a loving embrace .
    “I’ve missed you so much, Mom. I’m sorry I called you that night. I’m so sorry you got in an accident,” Ari sobbed as he r mom stroked her back comfortingly.
    “Oh, Ari. You can’t blame yourself. Bad things happen to all of us. This isn’t your fault.”
    “Yes it is. If I hadn’t gone to that party and gotten drunk. If only I’d never called you, then you wouldn’t have been out there,” Ari sobbed.
    “The doctors tell me I’ve been in a coma for six months. That’s a long time you’ve been carrying this heavy guilt around. No matter what happens to me, I want you to live your life to the fullest. This was in no way your fault.”
    “You have to say that, Mom. It’s in the parent’s handbook or something, but I’m twenty-three, not fifteen. I should have been more responsible.”
    “No matter how old you become, you’ll always be my little girl. I would be upset if you got in trouble and didn’t call me. I was worried about you that night, but also happy to see you having a bit of fun. Life will pass you by before you know it if you don’t give yourself some room for a few mistakes. You have to do things that are not planned to the very last detail. You have to live .”
    “I don’t know how,” Ari said, un sure this was even her mother.
    “Oh, baby, you’ve always done what is right. You have to allow yourself to make a mistake now and then. Sometimes in our lives, the best results come from the worst mistakes. We don’t know why anything happens. You can’t blame yourself for my getting into that accident. It may be the thing that saves my life. You never know the reason behind it. Maybe if I’d been home the next week, a burglar would have broken in and shot me, or what if I’d been driving to the store and a child had dashed in front of my car, and I’d killed him? We can’t agonize over what has happened — we can only be thankful it wasn’t worse.”
    “I needed you so much these last months, Mom . No one can make me feel better. Please, I’m begging you, please don’t leave me. No matter what it takes, don’t go. I love you.”
    Ari flung herself into her mother’s frail arms, vowing that she was never going to let go again. She could get through anything as long as she had her mom there beside her.
    “Ms. Harlow, can we speak to you for a few minutes?”
    Ari sat up and turned to find a doctor standing in the doorway. Her stomach clenched with anxiety when she looked at his somewhat somber expression . She didn’t think she was going to like the conversation. As she looked at her mom, she found the added strength she needed. None of this was insurmountable as long as they had each other.
    “I’ll be right back, Mom.”
    “Take your time, sweetie. I’ve been up for a while and these pain medications are making me tired. I think I’ll catch a little nap.”
    Ari walked from the room , a sense of dread filling her at the thought of her mother taking a nap...oh, no. What if she didn't wake again for another six months? It would probably be months, maybe even years before she wouldn’t dread it when her mother went to sleep. She knew she couldn’t live that way, but tell that to her