My sister was nine years older than me and I have very happy memories of her. One very dear one is when I was about 8, we shared a room and she would wake up on Sunday Morning and tell me to go downstairs and get her a cup cake and the funny papers. Of course I would say I didn't want to and then she said "If you don't I am going to give you to the garbage man" I went, but of course she never would have but guess I didn't really know that then.
She always called me Rag Leg. I guess because my favorite doll was rag with long legs.
When she was in the hospital and before she got so bad, we were talking about this. She said "boy, I was mean huh" I said no, you were not mean.
In the end she was so very bad that we all knew she had to go to see her family in heaven. She will be missed but fondly remembered. Good bye Ruthie.