And Then There Were Two...

 Last Monday my parents's family gathered at the Farmington City Cemetery to honor those who has passed. We were missing three of my parents's grandchildren and their families, but the rest of us were there. It's one of our family traditions.

A tradition I love continuing.

I remember just before my mother died, she told her three children she didn't want us to fight. She wanted us to get along or she would come back and haunt us. Thankfully, she has not returned to fulfill her threat, at least, as far as we know. 

My brother, my sister, and I got a long well after my mother passed. We had some tough times, but we remained friends. And then, our sister passed away. She was the baby, the youngest of the three, and she was the first to leave.

Now, only two remain.

We gathered at the gravesite and caught up, swapped stories, and found out what everyone was doing. Then, photo time. Before my sister died, it was always the three of us as our spouses and children looked on. After our sister died, her daughter took her place, representing her family. That first Memorial Day without her...that was tough. 

Now, it's just my brother and I. I hope we can continue to take photos--just him and me--on Memorial Day for decades to come.