I wanted to wait until the snow had melted, but I was compelled to visit Caitlin's grave today. The snow was still at least a foot thick above her stone, and I was unable to kiss her name. The wings of her angel and color of her singing toy were visible through the sheet of ice. I placed a butterfly in the snow and read some poetry before I left. Before I left a father arrived and stood in the cold, so I left so he could have more time.
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