I haven’t yet found the words to write about Cathy, so I am relying on these from Sally; Sally, whose words always hit the mark.
I am ever grateful for the rising of the sun each day because it lifts my spirits giving me hope that a new day will bring about joy and productivity in whatever it is that I need to be doing.
We will soon be going to California to face the man who violently murdered our little sister, Cathy. I’ve spent some time recently rereading some of the pieces I’ve written about Cathy.
Cathy smiling down at her nephew, Jared who was just four years old.
This one will be recognizable to several of my siblings because we were all there together to make this happen. Anyone who knew Cathy, knew her moods were never half-way, good or bad!
Cathy standing by a huge tree in Australia.
Moving Cathy: A chaos of books, crates, Rubbermades, glasses stacked and glass shattering–pinpricks of blood from tiny wounds. Loading, stacking, laughing, unloading, muddy footprints…
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