When I couldn’t feel the bottom of the pool anymore I proceed to start my float, assuming that I had gotten to the end I opened my eyes and stood up only to realize I was far from the end and I couldn’t feel the bottom. I immediately panicked! I jumped up and called for my son, but his back was turned to me and I was too far away for him to hear me. I did this a second time, with “Mikal” barely coming out of my throat. I knew the third time was going to be my last time; I was going to die right there in this pool. What was going to happen to my sons? Would they know who to call? Would these two little boys know how to take care of everything I had left undone?