Through the violent flash of scorching red rage;
My sister turned 39.
The painful reminders of childhood traumas and onset of adult autoimmune disease led to a storm of uncontrollable outrage.
This was supposed to be a joyous memory––instead we've perpetuated a negative family trait.
With an unusually long embrace––her special way of admitting guild and apologizing––we "let go" of the shit storm that just swirled around the car.
A Universal experience. . .
Happy Birthday, Shiree.
Despite my disappointment, I love you unconditionally and I know you love me, too.
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