Sitting in the back seat of the van with Sam.
Wearing the same brown pants...and the same earrings...and my winter coat.
Falling asleep and leaning my head on Sam's booster seat while Alex slowly died.
Some things are so much the same.
Some things are so much different.
Refusing to wear the gold ring again.
Selling the shirt I wore that day...the shirts I wore for several of those days.
Can you invite bad luck to visit?
Can you prevent it from returning by changing your clothes?
I wonder about the woman wearing my shirts.
What would happen if I wore that ring? Nothing.
Nothing happens now. Nothing good or bad. Just nothing.
But I like these pants.
I have trouble putting the earrings on, and am thinking of selling them.
I remember thinking how ridiculous I was then. I showered and got dressed and called work and said I was going to the doctor but would be in later, depending on what the doctor said. I put my jewelry on. How ridiculous. I took them off when I realized I wasn't leaving and I should get comfortable in that bed. I put them in my little "princess" pill box. I wasn't going to work after all.
Normally I can wear the pants.
But today I wore the pants and the earrings and rode in the back seat and fell asleep...and it was all just too much.
Did anyone notice I was crying in the dark?
I don't think so.
We went to my mom's art show.
The last one was when Sam was about six months old.
Why didn't my sister and her husband attend that one?
This one should have been when Alex was about six months old.
I could imagine the new pictures.
Why don't the memories crowd out the ghosts?
I need to get rid of these earrings...and these pants.
And remember to ride in the front seat.