“Mama, what are you afraid of?”

I’m eating popcorn with my four year old and we’re watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (and skipping over half of the movie to avoid the scary parts).

We’re watching the part where the Boggart is brought out of the classroom’s closet and the kids are meant to face their biggest fears.

J is laughing. It’s a sweet moment. Then he turns and asks me, “Mama, what are you afraid of?”

Immediately, I know my answer. I can feel the weight of the words on my tongue, as I hem and haw, pretending to have to search for my answer.

It’s losing you, my darling boy.

“Bears. Big ones.”