Scratch that. I attended a celebration of the life of one of my cousins. And it was a celebration.
My cousin was a fun loving, feisty and patient gal. She had to be. Besides four harum scarum boisterous boys, she also had raised one daughter. She loved them all fiercely. She married the love of her life and was still crazy about him.
Karen was the oldest daughter of my favorite aunt and when I went to visit her each summer, during cherry picking season, Karen was almost a big sister. Her boys during those two weeks were almost like little brothers. Crazy, pesky, somewhat obnoxious, but well loved little brothers.
We packed the church, family and friends, to remember her. As her oldest son sang, every eye seemed to glisten, or more. We remininsced and we laughed. We celebrated Karen.
I will even forgive her for calling me Pinda Poo when we were young.
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