There would have been gentle hands in my hair.

My heart should have broken the day I asked, "But Mommy, what if you die?" and instead of spinning reassuring tales of Never Lost and Always, I wish I had been taught the gospel of All Things Go. It would have been terribly hard to bear, but in that moment I could have become alive to the tiny heaven in each second of awareness; a slice of sunlight, a falling leaf, and recognized I live in heaven as I open my eyes to a morning, exist inside an embrace. There is a layer past hopelessness that melts into joyousness. "I hope we get a long time. But no matter how long, it won't be long enough."