Two years ago on January 19th, it happened.  I remember that Cameron had slept in my bed with me the night before.  She had fallen asleep wearing her cloths, a blue outfit with kittens and a patterned skort.  She was a late sleeper, but once she got up was able to completely get herself ready for school.  I went into the bathroom where she was brushing her hair and noticed the top she had put on was a pajama top.  I told her, and rather than be embarrassed she just laughed.  She changed shirts and we took off for school. 

We usually said a “morning prayer” in the car on the way to school.  That day we prayed for Brooklynn because she was sick.  We got to the school and parked across the street– like always.  I had all three girls with me.  I approached the street and looked both ways.  The girls stopped and waited for me to give the okay before they walked across.  I saw the truck approaching.  I saw the driver.  He was driving very slowly and looking ahead toward the cross walk.  I thought he was stopping.  I gathered my girls and said “let’s go.”  It wasn’t until I was almost struck by the truck that I realized he hadn’t stopped.  He just kept right on driving– slowly, straight ahead through the crosswalk.  I was able to stop myself and two of my girls.  But Cameron was one step ahead of me.  And one step was all it took.

Even after he hit her, the driver kept on going.  He had to be flagged down after I screamed.  I handed off my baby and 4 year old and then looked down to see Cameron in the street.  I knew immediately she was gone.  Instantly I had to face the reality that I had lost her.  I tried anyway to save her.  I called my husband and told him to meet me at the hospital.  The ambulance came and we were taken away.  In the ambulance I talked to the paramedics, told them I was a pediatrician, asked if there was anything I could do.  I told them it was okay, gave them a look like I knew.  The woman said “Ma’am, we have to try.”

I had to tell my husband that our daughter was gone.  I had to tell my dad on the phone.  It was so unreal.  I was in such shock.  I am still in shock sometimes.  It doesn’t seem like two years– it seems like yesterday.  It seems like forever.

 I will always miss and love my baby girl.  I will always be her Mama.  I have no words to say what she meant to me.  I can only hope to keep going.  I must make her proud. I must keep her spirit alive!