- Cape businessman known for starting NARS dies at 49 (2/23/17)9
- Apparent punch at girls basketball game propels lawmaker into action (2/21/17)4
- Business notebook: Owners ready to roll out the Barrel 131 (2/20/17)7
- Japanese restaurant up and running; owner surprised by fondness of sushi here (2/24/17)
- SoutheastHEALTH, Washington University School of Medicine announce collaboration (2/24/17)19
- Missouri bill would limit transgender school bathroom access (2/22/17)48
- MSHP: McLendon shot in side; autopsy refutes witness account (2/19/17)23
- Annual father-daughter dance provides some fun bonding time (2/19/17)1
- City issues precautionary boil order near Arena Park (2/23/17)
- $22M bond issue would alter Jackson schools (2/22/17)13
August 8, 2012
To My Sister Mary Wulfers-Trainor,
You slipped from this physical life in the early morning hours of December 8, 2011. As your birthday nears, August 13, I am drawn to vivid memories of you. I painfully recall your horrendously violent fight with the cancer that finally took you from us. That last month with you was the most precious and angriest time of my life. You fought harder than I would have to stay here and finish the work you began with Richard when you gave birth to Margaret and gave Tino love and a safe home life in which to thrive.
My anger was for the pain you were in and that I could not ease that pain for you. I held your hand and took care of you when you were awake, and I shed tears for you when you slept.
Mary, you once told me that I was your hero; however, I must tell you that you are the hero of my life. Your generous gifts of time, laughter, and fighting spirit will never be lost because I will remember, and I know all those people you grew up with, went to school with, partied with, worked with, and learned about life with will also remember.
I'm also sitting here remembering your first grade picture. You wore the same dress that I had worn because we didn't have a lot of money for clothes when we were growing up. That beautiful curly brown hair and those innocent, hope-filled eyes are one of the many images I have of you my dear baby sister. We were only 18 months apart in age, and I can't remember my life not having you in it.
We miss you so much -- more than words can express, but your life goes on through your children and the memories that all of us have in our hearts. Be at peace, baby girl, and we will all carry on until it is our time to join you.
Love always, Barb