It's been three months but still, I haven't told anyone how mush I miss you. Carrie cries for you, my dad and brother talk about you, while I have no one to tell so they would understand. Yes I can talk to my dad, Carrie or my brother, but I don't have that relationship with them. My mom and Kerry didn't know you, so they can't help. How do I talk to my friends when they don't understand?

I decide to write this to get it off my chest.

I remember the first time we met. It was your mother's birthday. You introduced yourself before anyone else could. I felt better then, because I wasn't so alone at the party anymore. I would have stayed near my brother but he had decided to stay with my mom.

At my dad and Carrie's wedding, you had to make a speech seeing as you were the maid-of-honour. Your speech was beautiful, and what made me cry was the way you welcomed my brother and I into the family. You were sick and frail but you had such authority, strength, beauty and love in that single speech that you became my hero.

But as some illnesses, yours got worst. You were so frail and thin that you ended up breaking your back and had to stay in a wheel chair.

When Carrie and my dad had a baby, and that baby got baptised, you were named the godmother. You looked happy and proud, but we could all see how sick you really were.

Three weeks later you were hit with a virus that the doctors couldn't cure. We didn't want you to suffer so we pulled the plug. It took three days for you to pass on. It was one of the hardest three days I have ever been through.

I didn't go to your funeral because I didn't think it was my place and I wanted to remember you the way you were before you died; full of life and love.

As I write this, I think I made the right choice by letting you into my life. No matter how short the amount of time that we knew each other, you left your mark on my life.

It was an honour to know you Aunt Sharon.