This poem was found among some cards and letters Kate had saved over the years. She had copied it down in her handwriting so it’s safe to assume that it meant a great deal to her. Since her burial is tomorrow, I thought I would honor the day with something she found so compelling.
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
by Mary Elizabeth FryeDo not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave bereft
I am not there. I have not left.
Random Misanthrope 
Beautiful. And very touching.
That made me weep.
A timeless and beautiful piece, and truly comforting in its way.