The Last Message

art writing...My heart tightened. “What happened?”

There was a pause. A silence that felt heavier than anything I had ever felt before.

“…She passed away last night.”

Everything inside me stopped.

“What? No… that’s not possible. She called me last night…”

But I hadn’t answered.

I don’t remember how I got dressed or how I reached home. My body moved, but my mind refused to accept reality.

The house was filled with people. Some crying. Some whispering. Some looking at me with eyes full of sympathy.

And there she was.

Lying still.

Peaceful.

Silent.

For the first time in my life, my mother wasn’t there to greet me, to smile at me, or to ask if I had eaten.

“Mom…” I whispered, stepping closer.

No response.

Just silence.

The same silence I had given her.

Later that day, I sat alone in a corner, holding my phone tightly. My hands were shaking as I opened our last conversation.

There it was.

My last message:

“I’ll call you in the morning.”

But below it… there was something I hadn’t seen before.

A message she sent after mine.(Okay son, I just wanted to hear your voice.)

My chest felt like it was breaking apart. Tears blurred my vision as I kept reading those words again and again.

She didn’t need help.

She didn’t need anything.

She just wanted to hear me.

Days passed, but nothing felt normal anymore.

Her empty chair in the living room.

Her voice missing from the house.

Her absence in every small moment.

Everything reminded me of her.

Every night, I wake up at exactly 2:17 AM.

I pick up my phone and stare at our last conversation.

Hoping… wishing… praying…

That maybe this time, there will be another message.

Another call.

Another chance.

But there never is.

If you are reading this, please don’t ignore the people who love you.

Answer their calls.

Reply to their messages.

Because one day, you might realize that what felt like a small moment… was actually your last chance.Weeks turned into months, but the feeling never faded. People said time heals everything. But they were wrong. Time doesn’t heal… it just teaches you how to live with the pain. I started noticing the smallest things about her that I had once ignored. The way she used to call my name from the kitchen. The way she waited for me to come home before eating. The way she would ask simple questions just to keep the conversation going. Back then, I thought she was being repetitive. Now, I realize… she was just trying to stay connected. One evening, I opened her old cupboard. Her clothes were still neatly folded. Her scarf still carried her faint scent. I picked up her phone, the one she used every day. My hands trembled as I turned it on. Her last dialed number… Was mine. Tears rolled down my face as I sat there, holding that phone. She called me one last time… And I chose sleep over her. I began to change after that. I started answering every call, no matter how busy I was. I replied to messages instantly. I made time for people who cared about me. Because I had learned something the hardest way possible: Regret is heavier than any burden in this world. Sometimes, I imagine what would have happened if I had answered that call. Maybe she would have told me something important. Maybe she just wanted to hear my voice one last time. Maybe… I would have said “I love you.” But now, all those “maybes” are just thoughts that haunt me. On her birthday, I visited her grave. I sat there quietly, holding my phone. For a moment, I almost dialed her number. Old habits don’t fade easily. But reality hit me again. There would be no answer. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I whispered. The wind blew softly, as if carrying my words somewhere beyond. “I should have answered.” “I should have listened.” “I should have been there.” If there is one thing I want you to learn from my story, it’s this: Never delay love. Never ignore the people who care about you. Because life doesn’t give warnings. Sometimes, the last chance looks exactly like a normal moment. A simple call. A small message. An ordinary night. Until it becomes your biggest regret. Now, every time my phone rings, I don’t think twice. Because I know