Yesterday marked the third anniversary of the death of my little sister. She was two weeks late entering the world. Sadly she left here before me, succumbing to her third bout of breast cancer at age 64. I miss her cheerful demeanor, her deep Christian faith, her commitment to her grandchildren.
When you lose a sibling, you lose someone to share inside family jokes. Who else knew what it meant when our mother was “on high beam?” Who else could mimic my father’s “don’t crowd me,” whenever we needed a laugh?
Love you, sis.