A sunny day, perhaps, but my heart is sad. She is gone and I am left with just her memory. Toys left in the kitchen, her favorite blanket on the stair rail. It's as if she wanted her spirit to stay behind and fill the empty house.

I look out in the yard and search for toys she might have abandoned, but there are none. I am thankful for that. I live on a quiet street with little traffic, but I would hate to have something of hers stolen. It wouldn't be right.

I am sure I have all of her things in the box now, so I can take it to the basement, with the others. Each of them have their own cardboard box, each sealed and marked. And upstairs, my little memory book with a single strand of her hair and a button off a blouse. One of eight now, each so special, so perfectly preserved. I can't believe they are all gone.

I wish it was raining, a cloudy day would be much more apropos. Maybe I'll put on some Cole Porter, that will cheer me up.