In loving memory


Every year, for as long as I can remember, I place a bouquet of flowers on my table for my sister's birthday.  I pause to whisper, "Happy Birthday" in my heart.  Small tears sting my eyes as I light some candles and remember our childhood days together and realize all the years I've had now without her unique personality and quick wit that she always carried wherever she went.

It's become tradition to remember her on this day.  Someone in the family always gets the flowers -- myself, my husband, or my daughters.  This year is was daughter M who picked them out and brought them home.

I wish I had more memories in the making with her now . . .  I miss you, Kim.

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