I never thought I would outlive everyone I loved. For most of my life, I was sure I would go first. My husband, Harold, used to tease me about it. He would shake his head and say, “If you go before me, Mabel, I swear you’ll haunt me for throwing away your old Tupperware before you’re cold.”I would laugh and tell him, “You’d better not touch it, or I really will come back.” That’s what sixty years of marriage does to people.It gives you permission to joke about the end,

I thought my biggest mom problems would be public meltdowns in Target, fighting over shoes with lights, and stressing about preschool wait lists. I never imagined I’d come home one afternoon to find my three-year-old son alone in his crib… and our babysitter gone. Gone—except for a letter with my name on it. And a truth I never saw coming. I never thought I’d be the woman posting on Reddit about her missing babysitter. But here I am. My whole world is my son, Caleb. I’m 34. American. Suburbs. Minivan.

I’m a single mom. I work brutal overnight shifts just to keep the lights on and give my teenage son a shot at a better life. Most days, it feels like I trade sleep—and maybe even my sanity—for paychecks that barely stretch far enough. Last week, something happened that I still can’t fully understand. I don’t know if it was the kindest moment I’ve ever experienced… or the cruelest twist life has thrown at me. I work nights. Really long nights. The kind where your legs ache, your uniform smells