She writes a letter to me every week from the time I leave home in February 69 until she’s in her mid 80s. Macular degeneration.. Oh well, everybody’s got to get something she tells me. Her mum told her this.
Whistles to herself.
Loves the moon
Sleeps with a small black transistor under her pillow
Has an amazing memory
Tiptoes when she walks. Never gets used to walking in bare feet flat on the ground.
Wishes she’d learned to swim.
Eats slowly and not a lot.
Sits at the table with her chair half in half out
Always asks what time you left when you finally reach her door
Likes changing furniture around
Keeps up with the news
Remembers everyone’s birthdays. Sends cards with a couple of scratchies inside.
Hates losing things
Misses being able to read
Likes watching birds dipping in the birdbath outside her kitchen window
Is good to talk to on the phone
Loves music
Agrees with people
Misses my sister so much
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