Someone said that it is wrong to say
"have a great day" all of the time.
It's cheery so I still say it.
But the fact of the matter is
that everyone's days are not all great.
In fact a lot of days are a bunch of
hard work and can be just plain
miserable.
I had a little brother
that was born on March 8th.
His name was Ken.
I called him Kenny.
He would have been 62 years old this March 8th
but his bad days got the best of him
and he left us on May 21, 2007.
He loved doing good things for other people.
He loved all things Native American.
He loved dogs and he loved to hunt and fish.
He loved nature and the big outdoors, especially in the pines.
When we were growing up we did not fight
or squabble at all....Really.
He was a very sweet little brother.
He was very cute and was my parent's favorite child.
(I'm pretty sure about that)
He was very handsome by the time he got to high school and beyond.
He loved the Lord and he wanted to do better.
So now everyday is a
"great day"
for my little brother.
Every Day.
Love,
Granny T.
