Sissy…
I never needed you to tell my story like it was sad.
I wasn’t just the girl who lost her way.
I was the girl who kept finding ways to survive when it would’ve been easier to quit.
I was the girl who carried wildflowers in her pockets — even when she didn’t have a home.
I was the girl who made strangers smile even when she forgot how to smile at herself.
I was the girl who never stopped dreaming, even when the world called her crazy.
I was free in ways others didn’t understand —
even when it hurt, even when it looked messy.
I didn’t get everything right.
But I loved without limits.
And when I messed up, it wasn’t because I didn’t care —
it was because I didn’t know how to hold all the broken pieces at once.
I don’t need you to make me look like a saint.
I don’t need you to hide my cracks.
I just need you to tell them:
“She was real.
She was tender.
She was brave.
She was still blooming even when the world saw her as broken.”
I want my story to smell like freedom, not like pity.
I want my legacy to be the wildflowers — not the losses.
Plant a tree if you can.
Share a kindness without asking for anything back.
Laugh out loud when you feel happy — really, really laugh.
And every time you see a wildflower growing where no one planted it,
or a sky so big it makes your chest ache —
Remember: I’m still here.
I made it.
I am whole.
I am free.**
And I am still your baby sister.
Always.”
Rebecca
