Angie was a wonderful big sister. When my parents brought me home from the hospital in February, 1961 Angie was thrilled to be a big sister. She repeatedly told our mother that I was "her baby". She never passed up the opportunity to hold me, feed me my bottle and help change my diapers. Even while she was very sick with chicken pox, she wanted to be the one to care for me. As I got older, whenever I was afraid during a thunderstorm or if my parents were fighting about something, we would hold and comfort each other until those things were passed. Even after I ruined a set of pen and ink drawings of the Beatles that had been personally autographed by coloring them with crayons, she forgave me because she realized I'd done so with the best of intensions. Although our lives went in opposite directions as adults, I'm thankful to God that I was able to care for her in her last days. How can I put a lifetime of memories into a few brief lines. Sister, wherever you are--I am thinking of you, missing your smile and your laughter.