I have little reminders of Samantha around my house. From the burp cloth I found under the quilt on my bed to the bottles in the dishwasher to the pack 'n play folded up in my bedroom to the formula bottle in my recycling bin, it is clear that she was here.
Today is the first day I've been home after school this week. I could spend some time getting my life organized again, but part of me is sad to see the reminders go away.
The first night, when I went to bed, since I had been staring at her little face all weekend, her image seemed burned into the back of my eyelids. There she was. Today, I can't picture her.
I remember well, however, the feeling of helplessness as I passed her back. I think that's important. I don't want to forget how much I want good things for her.
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