The nights when Mum had fallen asleep exhausted beside me and I was still awake, my young mind churning with what-ifs you should never have to contemplate at five years old. What if I die? Will it hurt? Will an angel come for me? Tossing and turning and watching Mum sleep. What will Mummy do if I leave her? How sad will she be? How much will she cry then, when I’m in heaven? Who will hug me like she does when I’m not alive anymore?
