When the shared reservoir of our humanity reaches its newest low point, can looking back aid us? Can remembrance help us manifest the desire to go on? Looking is the first thing I remember. I wouldn’t say I was studying it, but I held it in my hands and turned it over and over and over. I’m sure I held it when I was outside sitting in the cracked back patio, and though there aren’t any pictures, I probably had it at my 5th birthday, all smiles at the Darth Vader cake my mother made for me. I carried it until it was smoothed over, made smaller and smaller as it passed between my hands.