It arrived the night before on the Cascade Express train from Portland. The night was agonized waiting until the Express Office opened at 6. I woke without alarm at 5 and counted the minutes over coffee and under grey skies. At last the polished marble and gilt gold lettering of King Street Station welcomed me and the Express man smiled and had me sign for the box that I slid into the bed of my truck. Inside was another box. A turn of the last century casket in black brocade, white satin lining, pressed tin accents and even the little pillow, designed for eternal slumber was intact and as soft as it must have been when grieving parents selected this floor model for their passed, infant progeny. I wonder how many have anxiously awaited a casket, sent via express to King Street station. I’m sure the list is long and those listed seldom as happy about the arrival as I was.