Her name is Klara, she played with my own Clarity, they were both named a variation of the same thing, light, or to clearly see. They were three months apart in age.
I watched baby Klara, babysitting her while her mother worked.I fed her, changed her, put her down for naps, and then I went to her funeral, I listened to her eulogy, hugged her mom, and I stood next to the tiny box, in the cold, with three roses in my hand, one from each of my own living babies. I covered the tiny, white casket with those roses, the day was cold, cloudy and grey. Klara you were so small to be left by that pile of frozen dirt.
I went home that day and held my Clarity, unable to fathom that my baby was breathing, heavy and warm in my arms. Klara will never be bigger than the age of one, while my daughter continues through the ages and stages of baby to toddler hood.
SIDS affects many children from one month to a year. The statistics are here and Klara is one of several I personally know who has been taken, suddenly as an infant without a real physical reason.
I don't need to light a candle to remember this baby.
Someday I may write more of Klara, her story, her touch on my life and my daughter's.
Until then I will remember you baby girl.
And I will tell Clarity about you someday, when she is older and I am ready.
