Today I attended the funeral of my friend's 19-day-old granddaughter, Zerona. There was standing room only in the chapel. How remarkable to touch so many lives in 19 days.

There is nothing better in the world than the soft skin and powdered smell of a new baby. One could soak in the softness of their skin with the awe of such a delicate and profound creation. A new life, clean, unused and ready to be lived. A book to be written.

Zerona's tiny white casket covered in baby pink roses looked forlorn up there on the metal stand. Her young mother and father sat holding hands, her mother falling into unwilling sobs, her father who had studied and worked so hard for months on learning everything a good father should know, stoicly stood to thank those who came. I hugged her grandmother and walked on with the others past the casket. Baby Zerona, her lilac bonnet tied gently beneath her chin, wearing a precious but frozen blue smile. How many lives are different, Zerona, because of your visit to our world, the abridged version of your life. Sleep sweetly, small princess.