It sneaks up on you like a snake. A boa constrictor. Slips pass you ankle, gently brushing by whispering how lucky I am as I snuggle my son or kiss my husband. On the next pass it wraps its body slowly around my body whispering about how hard it will be to say goodbye as I play checkers with Chris or smell the sweet smell of Evan’s head. It tightens its grip now. What will happen to them as they watch me die. How can I ever say goodbye when this is all I’ve ever dreamed of. I don’t want to leave them. My heart is breaking. Whispers. Whispers of sadness that wrap its body around my heart. Squeezing and reminding me I’m on borrowed time. This snake of self pity. This snake of fear. This snake of death. Oh to cut its head off so that I might stay….to be a wife, to be a mom for decades and decades.