It was day ? of depression and despair. The days blurred together.  “I have a terminal cancer.  I am going to die” became the soundtrack to my life.  The constant thought of death played over and over.  It was the first thing I thought of when I woke up in the morning.  It was the first thing I thought of when I awoke at night to use the bathroom. “I have a terminal cancer.  I am going to die” was played on loop.  The only reprieve I had was experienced in that small moment when you first wake up and haven’t quite sorted through your whole reality yet.  I slept because I was depressed, but I also slept because I was unknowingly on my last leg of life.  The disease had taken over so aggressively, I was severely anemic and in very bad shape.  I remember, vividly, the exact point I knew I needed to get up and fight.  I was asleep in my room in the middle of the day since my mom was there to watch over the kids.  The curtains were drawn and the room was dark.  I awoke to a light creeping in from the cracked door and felt a little body climb into the empty spot next to me.  “Mama?” It was 4 year old Charlotte. “Why are you sleeping mama? It’s light out.  You sleep when it’s dark out.”  I rolled over to face her and she could tell instantly I was visibly upset.  “Why are you sad mama?”  I told her I had a problem I was trying to deal with.  And then I heard her little voice “Is it a big problem or a small problem?” I slowly grinned. These were the same words I had uttered to her over the course of the last year to help her cope with her innumerable everyday dilemmas.  My heart almost burst hearing these words now repeated back to me.  I remember telling her it was a big, BIG problem.  It was the biggest problem I ever experienced and that is what was making me so sad. And then the little voice echoed another phrase I had repeated to her over and over.. “If you have a problem, you should talk about it. We can solve it.”  In that instance, I was so taken aback and shocked at this little 4 year old’s wisdom, even if they were MY lines.  I had always tried to teach her to try to solve a problem and not spend so much time and energy worrying about it and stressing about it.  Here I was doing the same thing.  What her 4-year old self didn’t know was that there are some problems in this world bigger than broken toys, tumbling towers, and scraped knees. Some problems can’t be solved, including, but not limited to, incurable cancer.  Even so, this was my cue to get up and fight.