Because one day, there will be a last call.

I almost blocked my mother because I thought she was being dramatic.

For weeks, she kept calling me.

Morning.

Afternoon.

Even late at night.

Sometimes I would answer. Sometimes I wouldn't.

Every time we spoke, she asked the same questions.

"Have you eaten?"

"How is work?"

"Are you sleeping well?"

To be honest, I was getting annoyed.

I was an adult. I had my own life. I didn't understand why she needed to check on me so much.

One day, I ignored her calls completely.

The next day, I ignored them again.

Then I received a message from my younger cousin.

"Please call your mum when you get a chance."

I rolled my eyes and thought, "Now she's sending people after me."

When I finally called, her voice sounded different.

Tired.

Weak.

That's when she told me she had been in and out of the hospital for weeks.

She hadn't wanted to worry me.

The reason she kept calling wasn't because she wanted anything.

She just wanted to hear my voice.

I sat there in silence.

All those times I thought she was disturbing me, she was actually scared.

Scared that something might happen to her before she got another chance to talk to me.

That night I cried harder than I had in years.

Not because she was sick.

But because I realized how easily we take some people for granted.

We assume they'll always be there.

Until one day we're reminded that they won't.

Since then, I answer her calls whenever I can.

Even if I'm busy.

Even if the conversation lasts only two minutes.

Because one day, there will be a last call.

And none of us know when that will be.

Have you ever realized too late how much someone cared about you?