The Green Purse

I remember the day,
we received the call.

The day we knew,
we wouldn't see you again.

You were beautiful,
smart,
fun.

It felt unreal,
with you gone.

I still expected to go outside,
see you sitting on your porch,
go over and say hi,
just talk about everything.

And then you were gone,
and that meant pain.

Your parents were never the same,
your brothers had a somber mood to them,
unlike any we had seen before.

I still see your cross,
down the highway,
orange and always decorated.

I remember your memorial,
and stepping into your room for the 100th time.

And it felt like you were back with us,
and everything was okay.

Then it hit that it was a memorial,
not one of the visits I used to take.

And then your mother handed me your purse,
the green one,
that I always loved and wanted.

And told me that you planned on giving it to me,
Before you went away to college.

I still feel a strange mix of emotions when I look at the bag,
unsure of what to feel.

Happy,
or,
Sad.