She came back today–in a little wooden box–just her ashes. I’m glad to have even that small part of her. It may sound crazy, but I don’t care.
There was a card, “Patty, loved by the Kotchish family”. She was--loved by me. I miss her little grey and gold face and her brown eyes.
From time to time, I hear her toe nails clattering on the wood floors. And sometimes a glimpse of her out the corner of my eye. Is it a memory in my brain or something else? Who cares. Patty, I miss you, little one. Thanks for hanging out with me while you did.
June 28, 2016