Of Love, Hope and Death

Jumping right back in:

Tonight, around 11pm, I heard the soft whisper of, “Mom,” come from Autumn’s room.  I thought she had been asleep for a while but as I walked into her room, she was sobbing, “I don’t want to die.”  Holy cow.  How to manual where are you???

How easy it would be to just pass the buck to Heaven and all the glories possible within the pearly gates.  But since I’m not sold, even after years of indoctrination, I’m on the fly here.  Because she’s worried, about leaving her friend Brigit and her grandma and me and her dog and she doesn’t know what a freakin’ spirit is and if there is one and if we’ll see each other again and when it will happen and I’m frankly just as clueless as she is.

So we lay together and I tried to convince her not to worry about it and that death usually comes with old age and that our love will always be and I’m crying but hiding it and she can’t breathe because of all the tears and I didn’t think it was possible to fit one more worry into my brain.  But I’ve managed to squeeze it in anyway and hopefully it lightened her load to let me take it.

I can only hope.

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