Her golden hair flies behind her head as she moves her cubby little legs through the glistening meadow. The sun has just made its first appearance over the rolling hills and soft morning dew has settled across the field. She begins to laugh and the beautiful melody makes its way to my ears. I can’t help but smile at her even though she’s too far away to see me. Her innocence is intoxicating and I find myself turning my careless saunter into a swift jog. My feet move faster and faster through the damp grass until they seem like a blur, but her bobbing head is still yards away. As I slow back down into a calm walk, I see her stop and turn to the side. She squats down and disappears for a moment behind the tall grass. She pops back up moments later, her tiny hands overfilling with the stems of colorful flowers. She starts to run again, losing a single flower from her grip as she does so. Again I hear her joyous laugh echo throughout the meadow, making everything seem even more enchanting. I keep walking along, following the tiny path we have made over time through the grass, keeping a watchful eye on her as I do so. From the corner of my eye, I see a flock of butterflies enter the meadow from the surrounding woods. I know she has seen them too because she leaps back into a run, leaving the worn path in order to chase them. The grass is much longer where she’s running and I can only faintly see the top of her head bounding along. After a few minutes of frolicking with the gorgeous winged creatures, I see her pop back onto the path only a few footsteps away. Ahead of us the edge of the meadow has become visible, reminding us of our destination. She reaches the stone before I do and I helplessly watch the happiness slip from her face. Silently, she gives me one of the handfuls of flowers she picked earlier, than reaches for my free hand with hers. Her hands are icy to the touch even though the rising sun is showing us the beginning of a beautiful day. We stand there for a while, hand in hand, not saying a single word. At once the memories begin to play through my head, some good and some bad, but most forgotten until today. The sound of a sniffle brings me back to reality and I look down to see her tiny eyes brimming with tears. I give her hand a gentle squeeze and softly remind her that it’s all right to cry. So my baby begins to break down. Her face crumples and giant, grief filled tears roll down her rosy cheeks. She has her eyes shut tight, like every tear she sheds hurts her in some way. I bend down to help her to her knees and we both lay our flowers beside the large grey marker. Then slowly I lift her up and hold her tight in my arms as we both whisper our goodbyes. After one last sorrowful glance, I turn around to head back down the path, gripping her petite body close to my chest. We have only walked for a few seconds when a sudden wind wraps itself around us. The cold air forces me to close my eyes for a moment, and when I open them I notice a shadowy figure emerge from the nearby woods. She notices too and squirms in my arms until I am forced to let her out of my embrace. She bolts down the path to the place where the figure stands waiting, with me close at her heels. My body is aching with anticipation even though I know it would be an impossible miracle. We are now close enough to see the sharp outline of a man, gradually making his way towards us. As we begin to get closer and closer, more of the man’s features come into view. She recognizes his face directly after I do, and lets out a piercing shriek of happiness. She is inches away from him now but just as her fingers begins to brush against his; he suddenly drops straight to the ground. Her little feet stop moving and she stares in awe at the spot where he fell. Before I can move any closer to her, the grass where he fell starts to shake and then explodes with a shower of butterflies. Wings of every color of the rainbow, and all different shapes and sizes flutter around us, landing on our head, arms and shoulders. She lets out an astonished cry, and then starts to scream excitedly while running to chase the departing butterflies. The single tear I had let fall gets whipped away by the flicker of a butterfly wing before it even hits my chin, so I manage a smile and start to chase my baby through the flowers. I laugh to myself as I remember that her father did always have a way of making sadness into a beautiful memory.