Thursday, May 14, 2015
I love this photo. Snapped in early 1965, we were living in the duplex on Second Avenue East in Williston, having moved there just before Christmas from Ray. That's me with the goofy too-short bangs. Smiling and looking cherubic next to me is little sis Martine. And the chubby year-old tot in my lap is little brother Cullen. Today marks six years since Cullen died. It was one of the saddest days of my life. I can think of him now without crying. I will always miss him terribly. I am grateful that he was part of my life. There are more people than he ever could have imagined that carry him around in their hearts. That, to me, is the definition of love, and maybe immortality. Life goes on, and a little bit of him lives on because we loved him.