I always believed my mother was the strongest person I knew.

She had been a nurse for over thirty years, the kind who remembered every patient’s name, every frightened family member, every tiny detail that made people feel human again in the middle of fear. Growing up, I watched her come home exhausted after twelve-hour shifts, her shoes stained, her shoulders aching, yet somehow still able to smile when I ran to greet her.

To me, she was invincible.