This story took me a long time to write. I was inspired by an Eric Clapton song called "If I Saw You in Heaven." The songwriter wrote the song after his 2-year-old son was killed in an accident. Just to let you know I cried when I read this story and listened to the song. It means a lot to me and I hope you enjoy it.
NOTE: The lyrics aren't mine. They're Eric Clapton's.
~**~
*Would you know my name if I saw you in Heaven?
Would it be the same if I saw you in Heaven?
I must be strong and carry on
Cause I know I don't belong here in Heaven…
Would you hold my hand if I saw you in Heaven?
Would you help me stand if I saw you in Heaven?
I'll find my way through night and day
Cause I know I just can't stay here in Heaven…*
Dearest Samantha,
I'll never forget the first time I laid eyes on you.
The nurse brought you into my room wrapped in a pink blanket. She smiled at me and told me that I had just given birth to the most beautiful, healthy baby girl ever to grace the earth with her presence. At least that's what I thought.
"What's her name?" I recall the nurse asking me. At first, I didn't know what to say, so I called you the first name that came to mind.
"Samantha. Samantha Emily Scully." The nurse smiled and placed you into my arms. All at once, the tears began to flow as I held you close that first night. You didn't cry, just smiled at me. I ran my fingers through your tiny stubble of red hair, just like mine. How could this be happening? They said I could never give birth, and there you were, my own flesh and blood, the most precious jewel, more valuable than life itself.
"Welcome to the world, Samantha."
~**~
Your first day away from the hospital was one to remember. The Lone Gunmen picked me up from the waiting room and presented me with a dozen yellow roses, my favorite. None of them would dare to hold you, though. They didn't want to "break Little Scully."
When we arrived at my apartment, they helped me settle back in and I showed you your room for the first time. I had been working on it for months now. A tiny crib was in the corner, with a hand-knitted pink blanket from your grandmother. She had spent hours picking out the designs, staying up nights to knit, and helping me decorate the room as well. Your wallpaper has roses on it. Yellow roses. And your carpet is yellow as well. I knew at once that you liked it because you stopped crying when I brought you inside and laid you in the crib.
I remember you snuggling up to the blanket and sighing as you drifted to sleep that first night. How did I manage to give birth to such a well-behaved and peaceful baby? I remember wondering. I only had to get up once that night, and that was only to watch you sleep as you breathed slowly in and out through your tiny mouth. Once again, I ran my fingers through your hair and brushed your cheek. You stirred silently and reached up to grasp my finger while you slept. I stayed by your side for the rest of the night as you held tightly onto me. I wanted you to know that someone was there to watch over you.
~**~
Everyone loved you, Samantha. All my friends and neighbors, relatives and co-workers, said you were the most adorable little child ever born. I would just nod as they praised you. I knew it all.
So many people came to visit you, Sam. Agent Doggett on his way to work would stop by for a cup of coffee with me and taught you to play patty-cake. I remember how I would smile as you laughed and squealed with him. There was something special between the two of you.
Skinner came by every so often during my leave to check on us. We would always be fine, but he insisted on staying to help with any problems I had. I think he just liked to play with you as well. You were such a friendly baby...
Mom came to live with me the day after we arrived home for a week. She taught me everything there was to know about raising a baby, from changing diapers to dealing with fever. I think she knew I already knew it all from med school, but I let her teach me anyway. It was a comfort to have her around.
Bill and Tara even paid you a visit once or twice. Bill insisted that he fly all the way from San Diego to Washington just to see his niece. And of course Tara would have to follow him. They brought their daughter too. She's three now, Sam. The two of you got along well.
~**~
So many firsts, Samantha. Your first meal. Your first laugh. Then your first word. And finally, your first step.
It was midnight and you were six months old. I had just gotten out of bed to the sound of you crying from your room. I rubbed my eyes as I trudged into the kitchen to fetch your bottle. As it heated in the microwave, I walked into your room and pulled you up from your crib. The night was silent and only disturbed by the sounds of your wailing voice. I tried to soothe you with every method I knew, but nothing seemed to work. I set you down in your playpen with your toys and grabbed the bottle from the microwave. You had busied yourself with a stuffed bear when I returned. I handed you your bottle and pulled you from the pen.
As I rocked you in my arms, you drank vigorously from the bottle of milk. When you were finished, you pushed the bottle onto the floor.
"Not this game again, Sweetie," I said as I tentatively set you onto the ground and reached for the fallen bottle. It had opened and spilled all over the carpet. I cursed under my breath and rushed into the kitchen to get a wet rag and some carpet cleaner. When I dashed back into the room, I stopped short and gasped. I dropped the rag and carpet cleaner and ran over to you.
You were standing up. I smiled as you giggled when I approached. It was as if you were saying, "Look at me Mommy! I'm going to walk, just like you!"
And you did. Just like a newborn fawn, you placed one foot in front of the other and ever so slowly landed in my waiting arms. Like so many times before, I was crying into your tiny mess of hair.
I was a mother. And my baby was growing up.
~**~
And this is where your life took a turn, Sammy. I noticed you growing smarter and smarter every day. Everywhere we went, whether it was a walk in the park, a trip to the office, or a visit to my mother, you kept your eyes open, aware of the world around you. I could swear you were taking in everything you saw and heard and storing it up. Someday, you were going to be as smart as I was.
Your first birthday. Everyone was there. All of your friends from your day care center and all of mine as well. My family, friends, and co-workers all showed up and showered you with gifts. I think your favorite was the tiny pajama set from Frohike that had glow-in-the-dark little green men all over it. I scowled at him as you opened it.
I have a wonderful picture of you with your cake. That is, before you smashed your face into it and made the entire party hysterical.
These are the good memories I have of you, my one and only daughter, the love of my life. I have chosen not to share with you the unhappy ones that we experienced together. Like the disapproving looks from people we met who sent mental messages that they didn't approve of single motherhood.
You see, you never knew what a father was. You never knew what it was like to have a man around the house to provide for you, protect you and love you. And now I'm going to tell you something, Samantha. Wherever you are.
Your father was the best man I have ever met. And though you may be disappointed that he wasn't there for you, I just want you to know that if he could have been, he would have been. You see, he's gone, Sam. I don't know where he is. But I know he was watching over you. And me.
~**~
Sometimes I lie awake at night and wonder what my life would be like if you were still here. Would I smile more? Of course. Would I laugh more often? You bet. And would I cry myself to sleep every night? No.
I also stop to wonder sometimes...why? Why would God take away such a precious thing? Such an innocent child that meant the world to everyone that knew her? After everything I have gone through, why would he take you away from me?
Samantha, the doctors couldn't explain to me why you died. At first they thought it was SIDS, but then it seemed to be something deeper. For when they ran an x-ray on you, they discovered something that scared me more than I have ever been scared before.
A tumor. The same as Emily's before you.
Stunned at first, I ran from the morgue, out the door of the hospital, and all the way home. There were no tears. Only tears inside my heart. Tears for the daughter that was a miracle. Tears for the miracle that had been stolen from this earth before she had been allowed to live a normal life.
When I entered my apartment and ran into your room, I expected to see you there. To see you in the crib standing up and giggling with your curly red hair as you would call out, "Mama! Mama!" And I wanted so much to run to you and hold you in my arms for one last time and rock you to sleep, as I would hum your favorite lullaby.
I thought, Sam, that if your life was over, then mine should be as well. So, without thinking, I grabbed my gun from its holster on my bedside and ran into your room. I slumped against the wall and sat down. Slowly, I held the gun up to my forehead as I screamed, "WHY??" over and over until I felt the heavens would crash right into the room.
But I didn't have the courage to pull the trigger. I couldn't end my life.
~**~
I know you're safe now, Samantha. I know you're in a better place. Because last night I had a dream.
Everything was white. The clouds were white, my clothes were white, and the light from above sent brightness down upon me. You were with me, Sam. You were in white too. And you were holding my hand and smiling up at me. I smiled back and we walked down the path of gold laid before us. Suddenly, we approached a golden gate. Pearls adorned the edges and glittered in the light.
The gates opened and someone walked through. He was a tall man. He had a dark complexion with dark hair and I could tell we was smiling. And as he walked closer, I recognized him.
It was your father, Sammy. Your daddy was there. Up in Heaven with you. Slowly, he reached out to me and pulled me into a hug. And I cried with tears of joy and relief. I had finally found him. And he was safe.
You let go of my hand then and started to walk over to your father. I didn't stop you, just smiled as you always had as you turned to me and waved one last time. You took his hand and slipped away into the light.
*Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure,
And I know they'll be no more tears in Heaven…*
THE END
So what did ya'll think? I spent a lot of time on this, so feedback is very welcome.