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From The Publisher's Desk
We are sisters. Not because we share the same parents, but because we share a history. A long history. Our life stories are intertwined and dependent upon each other. What I have forgotten, one of them will remember. When I’ve fallen, they have come and picked me up.
My “sisters” and I pose for a photo before leaving the dahlia farm, left to right: Roseann, Denise, me and Shannon.
We were all born in the same year and went to the same schools. We’ve celebrated at each other’s weddings, watched our children grow and stood together at memorial services.
Life doesn’t just hand you friends like this. You have to work hard at nurturing them – by staying in touch, listening carefully and giving back whenever and whatever you can. This kind of a relationship has roots that run so deep that nothing can shake it loose.
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