Debbie Strikes a Pose.

This is one way I think of my sister - as a HAM. lol

Smiling and posing for the camera.

The other way is with a phone up to her ear and her mouth open. And talking.

My lord - this girl could talk.

But she listened too. And she was genuine. Know what I mean? If she liked you - she liked you. If she didn't - she made no bones about it, but told you right to your face.

Much like her big sister, come to think of it. LOL

Anyway, this is my little sister. She was proud of her sense of style - with reason. I think if she could have been anything in the creative fields she would have been an interior designer. Her home was always inviting without being cluttered or overdone. She could have designed for Southern Living or House Beautiful.

Only two jobs in her life stick in my mind, although given enough time I could come up with more.

She worked at The Manor as a Nurse's Aide for a long time. I think she was there when Bummie was admitted after breaking her hip. She said that it was hard work, but that she enjoyed talking with the residents.

The other job I remember was working at Disney and I think it was a blessing for her. It seemed to turn her life around. Or perhaps it was receiving positive feedback for good performance. She seemed happy there even though there were bumps in the road.

I have some letters from her that I'll share and more pictures to come.

That's all for now. Until we meet again: Blessed be.

Author's note: On the back of this photograph, printed in Debbie's childlike scrawl are the words "YOUR FAT SISTER". She looks pretty to me. Not anywhere close to "fat".

Those Miller Kids.

This is a photo of Debbie and I behind "the big house" on East Second Street. Holding hands in friendship. Even then we knew we could count on each other. Standing in front of the wooden stairs leading to the upper half of the acre lot we learned to call HOME.

Look at us in our little sun suits. Me with Navy cap from Dad and saddle shoes; Debbie still in ruffled socks to complement her white leather shoes.

Both of us are captured looking to our right toward the flagstone patio by the old spring fed fish pond that acted as a focal point for Gran's Rock Garden.

It's dated September '61, so Debbie would probably be days away from her second birthday while I was fast approaching the ripe old age of four.

Gail Johnson and Jerry Miller

Mom and dad to me. This is a placeholder post to establish the site for linking purposes.