I RETURNED HOME FROM MY DAUGHTER’S FUNERAL TO FIND A TENT IN MY BACKYARD

Lily, who was eight years old at the time of her death, went away from cancer a week ago. The funeral was just as difficult as one would anticipate it to be. Despite the fact that I was emotionally spent by the time I arrived at my house, I was unable to move when I pulled into the driveway. A large tent was set up in the backyard of my house. Fun and reminiscent of a circus.

Who would do something like that? I couldn’t fathom it. While I was pulling back the flap of the tent, my heart was pounding. Inside was a bundle that was wrapped in a blanket, just like the one that Lily had received at the hospital. As tears began to well up in my eyes. At first, I assumed it was some kind of sick joke.

Although my heart was racing and my vision was blurry from tears, the bundle shifted once more as I stood there. I fell to my knees, dreading the worst possible outcome and half-expecting some terrible trick to be played on me. But then I heard it — a gentle purr that I was accustomed to hearing.

Muffin, Lily’s favorite kitten, was curled up in a snug manner with a small note pinned to the fabric. I pulled the blanket back, and there she was: Muffin. As I opened the note, which was written in Lily’s unmistakable and sloppy handwriting, my hands continued to shake. The note read, “For Mommy — So you don’t feel alone.”