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The One I Didn’t Want to Write on My Birthday.

Opiods killed my sister.

Christine is and always will be my older sister. Mother of four courageous children. And now she’s gone for the rest of my breathing hours.

Christine was the one who taught me how to read when I was embarrassed at school. I was the youngest in my class and got made fun of for the way I drew my suns. It wasn’t a great start to my career in academia.

But Christine said “screw them.” She had a way about her, a tender but fiery confidence that screamed “I am who I am, who are you to say I’m anything less ?!” And for that,  I am grateful. It changed my ability to love others because it allowed me to love myself more freely.

 

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