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