My brother’s had a surprise that brought him both joy and sadness. A customer said this week that he remembers his sister Barbara and when she died.

This took the floor out from under him. This is the 60th year since she died of things we now vaccinate children for. She got German Measles that went into Encephalitis, and she passed from this earth in under two days.

He is sad because he has few memories of her, other than her dark hair and that she reminded him most of our dad. And there are few people left on earth who do remember our sister Barbara. Their mom died only a few years after Barbara, our dad passed on 13 years ago, and our parent’s generation that knew her from birth have nearly all moved on from this world.

But he was glad because someone does remember her. Someone who actually met her, played with her, and spent time with her … even if only in school. Because this man was about three years older than Barbara, his memories are better than my brother who was three years younger than Barbara.

Although I never knew her, I will always tell you that I am one of five children. I never met Barbara, and I miss my sister Cheri who passed on 24 years ago, but I still am one of five children. This is the same for my nieces and nephews. I will always tell you that I had seven, and six are still living.

My brother will take longer to tell you this, but only because six decades have not diminished the loss of first Barbara and then a few, short years later, his mom too. Learning to live without people can be done physically, but the emotional attachment never ends. And I don’t believe it should, because these people live on inside of us.

Just because someone has left this life, doesn’t mean they have left the hearts of those still here.