Stop.

Things are scary.
The neighbors downstairs.
Driving in harsh rain.
Large, fast birds.
Forgetting where you put your keys.

Living alone.
Being alone.
Dying alone.

It's amazing that life begins and ends. We are given a body, with lots of blood and guts and nerves and skin. Things make our blood hot, hate our guts, get on our nerves and under our skin. But people keep going... until they don't. People's bodies are overloaded with evil and they just

Stop.

And the rest of us have to keep going.
And we make goals and plans like we are guaranteed a future.

I will be out of college in two years. I will start graduate school. I will teach and write. I will get married, and I will have babies - babies whose names I already think about. I will grow old with the man I love, and sit in rocking chairs on the front porch and think "I did a good job." That's the plan.

But what if I stop working? What if my heart or my lungs or my liver just

Stop?

Things are scary. They make my eyebrows come together, my eyes get wet, and my lips tremble. But dying is as inevitable as it is sad, it is as predictable as it is tragic. And no matter if we steer clear of dark corners or look both ways before crossing the street - it catches up to us.

And yet - I make plans. We all must make plans to live.