It just hit me...today is the anniversary of the day my little sister Jill died. She was 22 months old and had pneumonia, but it was diagnosed as a cold. She was my godchild. In our family the older kids got to be godparents for the younger ones. I was not quite 13 when she was born. After all these years I still get teary-eyed thinking about the loss of that beautiful child. And, being a parent, I can't begin to imagine the heartbreak my parents endured.
When we all go out to have a beer with Mom and Dad at their gravesites on New Year's Day, we spend time remembering Jill too. And we smile instead of cry. What an adorable little girl she was!
The best compliment I could pay her was when I named my own much-loved daughter, Jill.