Two Weeks After Our Baby Died, My 8-Year-Old Whispered, “Mom, She Isn’t Gone—I Saw What Daddy Did at the Hospital”

A quarter.

He had forgotten it.

I almost kept it as a memorial.

Then laughed at myself.

It was twenty-five cents.

I gave it to Lucy for a school fundraiser.

Objects can carry meaning.

They do not need imprisonment.