I had never felt so helpless, so scared. At that moment, the reality of life if my mom died fell on me like a great cosmic anvil. I actually prayed for a remission, and I’m not really the praying sort. Maybe there is a god and he was like, Well, fair-weather friend, you can have a partial remission, but that’s the best I can do for you. And I’m so grateful that she’s doing okay, but what I wouldn’t give for the relief of a full remission. I worry every day that the cancer has decided to start growing again, and we’re all just going about our business, oblivious to the sickness growing inside her. What then?

It occurs to me that, with Jonah being cared for, it might be possible for my father and me to survive the loss of my mother. Unbearable and untenable, but possible. And for the first time, I understand how my mother could make the most agonizing choice of her life — moving Jonah into a facility. This was the only way to assure that he would be okay. The weight of it bears down on me as we stand there, trying to say goodbye to Jonah, trying somehow to leave him behind.

Jonah doesn’t throw a fit when we go, which I worried he might. But in a way, it’s worse. He stands still and silent, like a tree, and I imagine he doesn’t understand what’s happening. How could he? When I hug him, I wish I could make him understand how sorry I am that we’re doing this, that we have to leave him here, that any of this has happened to him. Instead, I just squeeze him extra hard and try not to cry.

As we leave, Delores herds Jonah off to put on one of his nature videos.

My parents walk ahead of me to the car. My mom is crying, and my dad puts an arm around her. When we reach the car, he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and blows his nose with that terrible loud honk of his. My heart feels like a giant fist is crushing it to mulch. The amount of collective devastation in the three of us, despite how positive everything seems, overwhelms me.

It’s going to be a long ride home.

I pull out my phone. There’s only one person in all the world who could make me feel better right now, who could get me through this misery. And I need her more than ever.

I type: *gazes out car window on way back from Little Lambs Village* *heart breaks*

Her reply comes instantly: *stokes Humphrey’s flames with shredded homework and flies over to get you* *sets coordinates to our castle in the sky*