LETTER TO SHELLY
Your toes wiggled wildly while you cried as I covered those precious
piggies with shoes and socks. Your newborn baby brother lay peacefully in your mother's arms in the next room. I cooed and cajoled and changed your tears to giggles.
You said the dazzling white communion dress must only be created by me, your aunt. It had to be the "bestest for the favoritest." You glided down the church aisle believing you were the most beautiful.
Madly careening, you crashed the lawn tractor into the new car of the boy on whom you had a wild and all-consuming crush. You hastily hid behind me, totally devastated by his and your uncle's wrath.
While others sedately paraded in their somber black gowns, you bounced across the university stage with your brightly-colored shorts, shirt, and Keds peeking out from beneath your dark robe, the maroon-ribboned white parchment clutched closely in your hand.
Once again you cried while attempting to wiggle your toes as I gently covered them with the brilliant pink satin slippers. The creeping cancer was ferociously feasting on your insides like a lion. This time, while you slept, I cried.
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