I am afraid

that as life moves on I will forget.  People tell me I won't, but they don't understand.  I know I won't forget him, forget he exists, forget he was here.  Miles has changed me forever, I will never be the same.  While I was in the hospital just after Miles' birth, all I wanted was to heal physically and go back to the way things were.  I wanted to be busy with kids and projects and life.  Now that I am feeling physically capable, I am afraid to.  The better I feel physically the more afraid I become.  Afraid that people will forget.  That they will stop asking about him, stop saying his name.  That I won't have anyone to tell his story to.  Afraid that I will forget.  Forget his sweet baby smell, the feel of his soft skin, how it felt to hold him in my arms, the rise and fall of his tiny chest.  I would give anything on this earth to have those moments back, to hold him one more time and touch his warm little cheeks.  That day was so surreal, so blurry, I feel like I have to reach through the fog to grasp at any physical memories of him.  I would give anything to have heard him cry, just once, to hear his voice and have one more piece of him to hold onto.  My arms have already forgotten the shape they made when they held him; the weight of him, the feel of him, his beautiful hair touching them. They just feel empty.  They don't remember.  I can't remember.  And already it feels like his very existence is fading to only a memory and photographs to remind me that he really was here.  Those, and the aching hole in my heart are all I have, and I am afraid to move on.