I’ve got one fear.

The most immense, consuming, obliterating kind of fear,
Worse than that of an artist going blind,
A musician deaf,
Or a dancer crippled.

The kind of fear that takes your insides,
Splits it in two like an earthquake,
leaving a chilling aftershock in its wake.

My fear…
is losing you, Little Man.

I’m afraid that as you grow up and I move away,
You’ll forget me.
I’m afraid that as you learn you ABC’s and 123’s,
You’ll forget me.

That the picture that they say you look at every day on the fridge won’t be enough.
That slowly but surely you’ll forget the sound of my voice
Or the way we dance to the music you love.
The feel of my arms,
Wrapped tightly around you as we spin around,
Hoping… no, praying that the moment won’t end.

I’m afraid it will all fade away.
That our 15 year age gap and 15 mile distance
Will cause you to think that I’m only a friend,
Not the sister who had named you.

I’m afraid.
Because I’ve never loved someone so much
in so many ways.
Your smile, your laugh, the teetering way you walk,
All fills me with a high that nothing else makes.

Again, I am afraid.
More afraid than an artist losing sight,
A composer going deaf,
Or a dancer paralyzed.

I am afraid, Little Man.
Impossibly, unbelievably afraid.