Hopefully, it is nothing. Dad doesn’t think it is anything. He says he sees you with him when he is old. But I want to say, aren’t you kind of old already? But that’s a joke and it’s not that funny, considering. I feel numb and checked out a bit. In what we would call Attentive Immobility. Waiting for the other proverbial “shoe to drop.” Pony, you are the most magical wonderful delightful amazing thing to ever happen to me and I can’t imagine my life without you. In fact, I can’t. I can’t picture it. Because it doesn’t exist. I cease to exist without you by my side.

You have been complaining about lower back pain for a little over a month now. Around the time we put up the yoga trapeze, which shouldn’t matter. Your back is the most flexible it will ever be. It is not muscular. Or the Tylenol would have helped.

So they want to do tests; an X-ray and blood panel. Looking for…ruling out…a tumor. Cancer.

That word.

Not with you. Not in the same sentence as you. Not in the same breath.

Dad is taking you for the X-ray tomorrow. I am taking you for blood work on Wednesday.

You wanted to sleep with me tonight. And then felt bad about not being with Dad too. We talked about how hard divorce can be sometimes. We cried. We tried to think of all the kids we knew who had divorced parents. We do not know that many.

You fell asleep after wrapping your arms around me and telling me that you “love me sooooooo much.” I have never felt anything as sweet as those words coming out of your mouth and landing on my ears. It is a warm rush of love.

I love you.

More than you will ever know. Maybe until you are a Mom. Then maybe you will know.

Mom