I'll never forget my mom's face when she walked into my room last Friday and said "your brother is in intensive care."

He had made a trip to the emergency room earlier in the day with a lot of pain, but I just assumed it was because he had a bad fever for a week prior to being admitted to the hospital. A few hours later we got a call from my dad, who had taken him to the hospital, to tell us things were a lot more serious than we thought.

I can't describe to you the few days that followed - guilt, pain, shock, fear. Seeing someone so young, tall/hefty and healthy lying in a bed unable to even move onto his side; it's indescribable. It really is a pain that words can never adequately describe. It's so humbling to see the weakness in someone who has always been so strong - it reminds me that Allah (swt) is the Only One who is Al-Qawi, the Supremely Strong. The rest of creation is at His will.

My parents were (and are) at his side all the time, and I can't imagine the anguish parents must feel, seeing their child in such a compromised position. I think their hair has gotten whiter and their wrinkles deeper. What pain could I ever feel that would be comparable to theirs?

The doctors said he might not make it til morning, then they said he might lose the use of his legs completely. But a week later he's recovering slowly but surely - alhamdulillah, all praise is due to Allah, Al-Wahhab, the Greatest Bestower of gifts and blessings.

I can't help but think how close all of us are to death, but how little we've actually prepared for it.