I am four years old and nothing can be harder on me. If I only understand what is going on around me. I know, but in so many ways I don't understand. I keep replaying that conversation in my head. "I don't want you to die Mommy." "I don't want to die either" she says. I spend all my time with her, that's never going to change, I think. But it has changed, she can no longer take care of me. She is sick and she's changing everyday. She is no longer home, she's some where else. A hospice, whatever that is. And I can't stand to be there with the scary nurses, so I spend my time out on the play ground, swinging by myself. She's dead they tell me, but I still don't understand. It's her funeral and I have a question, "So is this heaven Andy?".