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Showing posts from February, 2016

When One Door Closes

Packing up my sister's bedroom and leaving it behind was one of the hardest things we've ever done as a family, when my parents moved.


Not too many teenagers had their own smiling face printed on posters boards and banners but she did, and for years they took up space on her bedroom walls and served as daily reminders of the challenges she faced and the recognition she so rightfully deserved. Those posters were never supposed to come down, but they did. They got rolled up and held together with a rubber elastic and stuffed in a box next to a signed poster of Celtic Thunder. Loonette, Molly and the two dust bunnies from the hammock above her mirror also found room in the box, and with that we remembered how Dad pretended to believe they were real, wanting nothing more then to have them disappear forever.
All that was left of the four walls that protected her and her special things was her favorite shade of purple, nail holes and empty corner shelves where her Angels sat above …