Steve died 32 years ago today. That seems so unreal to see - it has been 32 years. He was just 13 years old and here is not a day that goes by that I am not reminded of him. There are things about myself that remind me of him in so many ways. This picture was taken during a visit to our grandparents' house the Christmas before he died.
Monday, February 25, 2008
In addition to my sister Judi that you met yesterday, I have an older brother. His name is Steve. He was a great older brother and even younger brother to both of the girls in our family. He was kind and considerate. He wanted to grow up and move back to Florida and buy a house big enough that Momma and Daddy could live with him and his family. He loved the outdoors - he would hunt and fish with Daddy. He loved sports - he was a big boy at the age of 13 - he was already 6"1" and wore a size 13 shoe. He liked our grandmother Hattie's cooking. But his favorite person in the world was our Mother. He would sit and talk to her while she would cook dinner.