In 2011, my life was uprooted in an instant. I remember sitting on the floor of my Brooklyn, New York, apartment, heart pounding, tears flowing, palms sweating, anxiously anticipating a phone call where I hoped to hear two words: "She's OK."
Earlier that morning, my mom, who lived alone, was knocked unconscious after falling in her home in Tampa, Florida. A family friend found her about 12 hours later. While I waited for that phone call, I knew my life would never be the same.