Dear Jordan,

Do you remember when we sat together in the star-studded ceilinged piano room and sang “On My Own” from Les Miserables with our operatic lips? I think I have a photo to prove it.

Do you remember when I called you from MD’s hospital room to tell you that she tested positive for Cystic Fibrosis and we cried together? Thank you for mourning with me.

Do you remember when you dry-shaved your legs in our crowded suburban on a long family road trip? I was the lucky sibling to be sitting next to you. We were good at teasing each other.

Do you remember when you, me and Brendon all sat together googling retired grehounds? I thought it was hilarious that we sat there watching you surf the internet.

Do you remember the letter you wrote to me before I left for my mission? I kept it safely tucked behind the front cover of my journal (it’s still there). I brought it out often when homesick, in need of comfort, or frustrated, in need of advice. You are a talented, inspirational writer.

I gratefully remember these times. Thanks, sister! Happiest birthday to you!

I love you,

Ann