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I am at work, just having met with my manager, who says I need to bring in more money for the company. In the middle of this, I realized that today is Ellen's birthday. She would have been 66 years old if she hadn't died of breast cancer when she was only 46. Wow, that was twenty years ago and it seems like it was only a few years ago at best. Ellen was my older sister. She was a psychiatric nurse, so she knew that the lymphoma was going to kill her. I still remember her anger and disbelief--Kubler-Ross was right when she described the stages of dying. My mother had to take a Valium at the cemetery to hold herself together. Now even she is gone--dying on her 90th birthday this past January. As children, Ellen and I would tease each other. I used to call her Ellen Bellen Watermelon.
It's a good thing computer type doesn't run.
