He was turning eight on February 8th, 1968, wondering why none of us had wished him a happy birthday. We were just following instructions, but bursting from our little bitty seams, because we knew…we knew there was a surprise coming.

After dinner was cleaned up, my brother Jimmy was moping about, dropping hints about what day it was. Momma took him by the shoulders, hugged him tight and said, “Happy birthday, son!” That was it. Unusual in our family because Momma made holidays and birthdays extra special. I thought I saw his heart drop to his stomach…but still he smiled with those big brown eyes and said, “Thank you, Momma”.

She sent us to wash our hands and tidy our bedrooms. Calling us 15 minutes later for homemade cake and ice cream…and yes, a couple of birthday presents!

Just then the doorbell rang and this time, Momma insisted on answering it herself. One after another, our family members and friends filed in singing “Happy...

Friends, it’s true what they say, “Life flies by”….

When I look at these few snapshots of my brother’s life, I am reminded again of how precious and unpredictable life is, and I feel sad to know that we won’t get any future pictures of him. Just a few months ago, surrounded by loved ones, Jimmy left this earthly existence.

Losing a sibling is heart-wrenching on several levels. Before he passed, my two brothers were probably the only people alive who really knew me well as a child. Knew how we were raised. Knew how we were loved. Knew our family function… and dysfunction.

All his life we saw Jimmy as the omega man - stronger than an ox, brilliant, athletic, fun, tall, dark and handsome. He could do anything he set his mind to. As the middle child, he was the facilitator, the one of us with a heart of gold and the one who would, literally, give you the shirt off his back.

Thanks to our momma, our bond was strong.

Jimmy grew up to be a...

From the moment she was born, the summer of my 12^th year, I was smitten with my baby sister, Kelly.  Adopted, she was our gift from God.  Sharing a bedroom, every night I would gently take her from her crib and place her on my tummy.  She was just precious, tiny and so sweet.  To me, she was a little miracle angel, and I adored her. 

From infanthood on, Kelly’s blue eyes twinkled, and she laughed often, deeply from her belly, causing everyone around her to promptly break out in laughter too.

We were two peas in a pod and believe it or not, this little munchkin accompanied me often, through my teen years, hanging with my friends.  I didn’t mind at all.

Even when I married young and had children of my own, Kelly joined my growing household on weekends, summers, vacations, and special occasions. We were always very close, although I was no longer living in my parent's home.

As a teenager, she struggled with being adopted and feelings...