Although my sense of humor wasn't ever quite the way it was when my father was alive, it felt okay to laugh again. Laughing, I could remember my dad, and think he might be laughing, too.

    I felt alive again.

    But our family still wasn't the same.

    I looked at the cartons. Before we moved, Mom had sold or given away practically everything. We bought all new furniture, all new everything, even chests of drawers and desks. The interior decorator decorated our big new house and we moved into a completely new life.

    I gave one of the cartons a kick. Mistake. The killer dust bunnies attacked me. All of a sudden I was having trouble breathing. I panted a little and took a couple of gulps of air. Then I hauled my inhaler out of my pocket. (Have inhaler, will travel. Actually I have two kinds of inhalers - a prescription one for when my attacks get really bad, and a regular one that you can buy in the drugstore for times like these, when I get a little short of breath.) I held the inhaler to my lips and took a couple of drags on it.

    A few minutes later my breathing was back to normal.

    I flicked Aretha off. I needed real company, so I decided to plunge into the high seas of Kristy's family. Even if only half of them were around, that would be plenty.

    Sure enough, when the door to Kristy's house was opened by her little brother David Michael and his pup, Shannon, the noise rushed out like a tidal wave.

    "Hey!" said David Michael. Then he took a deep breath and bellowed, "Kristy!" "Don't yell like that!" Kristy called back.

    I started laughing as David Michael shouted, slightly more softly, "Okay. Abby's here!" "Thanks," Kristy replied in her usual firm, commanding tone of voice as she entered the hall. "Hi, Abby!" "What's up?" I asked.

    "Pasta jewelry," said Kristy.