Each year, my son planted sunflowers in memory of his twin sister who passed away—then one morning, we discovered them all cut down, with a white box left behind.

before him, but somehow always acting like she’d arrived in the world first for a reason. Lily was bold, bright, fearless. Patrick was quieter, gentler — the kind of kid who looked both ways twice and reached for his sister’s hand before crossing a room full of strangers.

When Lily laughed, Patrick laughed.

When Patrick cried, Lily’s face crumpled too.continue reading …