Remembering.

I just touched the soft bristles of the sponge I used to wash him during our last hour together and my hands ached just a little bit.  They still hurt. 

I’ve been cleaning my room again, and I came across Clark’s box of hospital things— his “Special Delivery” hospital shirt that I have been sleeping with every night.  But it stopped smelling like him, so I finally washed it, folded it, and put it away.     

And then I smelled the Johnson & Johnson baby wash.  I have 3 little bottles that I took from the hospital.  One of them is the actual bottle I opened to bathe him with. 

Bathing him, with my mom by my side, was one of the most beautiful and sacred moments we had together.  I wish he could remember that  moment more than any other.