John and I are in front of the house in the late morning sun teaching our son Benny to ride a bike. 'Don't let me go yet!' he is hollering. 'I'm not ready.' The weekend air is a medicine, and I?m starting to feel stronger and stronger: finished with chemo, finishing up six weeks of radiation. I'm smiling at John. Benny's going to do it. I'm not looking down. I'm looking ahead. Then: my toe catches, and I stumble. Something deep within me snaps. Benny hears me yelp, and John and I both let go of him. John is supporting me whole weight and I'm floating somewhere in the new universe called pain. But I'm also watching Benny wobbling forward. He keeps going and going. 'I?m sorry, Mom! Are you okay?' he is yelling over his shoulder. 'Look'! I'm still riding!' And there it is: The beautiful, vibrant, living world goes on.