Kawanee’s husband is remembered by her sister.
I don’t remember what I thought when I first met you. I honestly don’t even remember our first meeting – period. I can remember meeting so many other people in my life – ask me about the first time I walked around my kindergarten class. I can remember sitting on the stairs in a house in Maryland when I was three, watching Dad keep an eye out for some idiot running around with a machete. I can remember holding the hand of a young girl who had just been hit by a car – the red and blue ambulance lights flashing across our faces – I was only four, then.
I remember meeting your oldest brother. He was tall and quiet, and I was thrown off at first by his appearance, because I was only six, but I knew heads were generally shaped a certain way, and his…
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