We went on the memory walk this weekend. We got the chance to meet Cara and we stood with everyone else under grey skies, listening as she told us a little about her Emma Grace and as she read the names of all the other missing babies.
Afterwards, we wandered through an old cemetery in the churchyard of a nearby town. We read the names and dates etched into slate and marble, looked at carvings of urns and willows, lambs and cherubs. We both took photos, but it wasn't until I got home that I realized that all my pictures were of exactly the same thing -- not the gravestones themselves, but the spaces between them.