My sister has done a lot of work on our family genealogy. I hadn't
thought of some of my relatives in ages. It's strange how hearing a
name can bring a picture into your mind.
I long to go on a day trip with my sister and see some of the old
homes that I visited as a child. I want to look at family tombstones
and reflect on the lives of those with whom I can no longer laugh or
cry.
My brother's best friend, Tommy, died in the Vietnam War. He was
much too young. He was over at our house a lot since his own mother
had died and he lived with his grandmother.
I had a crush on Tommy for a while. He thought of me as a little
sister. At Tommy's funeral I couldn't bear to look at his face. It was
difficult to come to terms with the fact that he was dead. Somehow it
seemed as if I could keep him alive if I didn't see him lying in that
casket. But memories don't die!
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