Marsha, I barely knew you before you were gone but my summers were spent coming to clean your grave and wondering what it would be like to have a sister.
I put my bridal bouquet on your grave and I came to visit you on my one trip back to England in 1994.
I still often wonder what it would have been like to have had a sister.
Susan
28th December 2011
I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are.
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
Life means all that it ever meant, it is the same as it ever was.
Extract from a poem by Henry Scott Holland