It was the day after we heard that Jacob had a recurrence of his cancer. It was the most terrible news. It was much worse than the original diagnosis.
Jacob was two years old. As far as he was concerned, everything was business as usual. I was taking care of him. I was being his mother.
Jacob was on my lap. We were sitting on a glider in his room. I had just finished reading him a story. Just like I did a million times before.
I looked at his hand. It had a very nice, refined, square shape like his Dad's. I'd always loved Jeremy's hands.
Remember this, I told myself. I looked at every detail of his hand and downloaded it into my permanent memory. This was not something to take a picture of. A photograph couldn't capture it.
It's as clear as day. I've lost so much. But I still have that.
I first posted this piece on Facebook during Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, 2013.