A Nashua campaign ID.

An inscribed, antique book.

A hospital bracelet.

A pressed flower from every February.

An 8th grade Social Studies textbook.

A pocketful of olive stones.

A beribboned Lapland pine box - moose removed.

An unused Tower Records gift certificate.

A squashed red rose.

A pen that signed an international peace treaty.

Every email written while he was away.

The smiles, frowns; the highs, lows.

Words said; words left unsaid.

The touch of his hands.

The look in his eyes.

You keep everything he ever gave you.

And the one thing he could never give you.

His heart.