Everyone should have an Aunt Daisy. You know. The Auntie that was mother, sister, friend all in one. The silent observer who looked beyond your faults; never changing her way; never judging. The one who knew just what you liked to eat and always seem to have it on standby whenever you showed up. The one whose house you could always show up. Any time. Any day. And be welcomed. Door always open. That’s my Aunt Daisy. 83-years young. Quick on her feet. Always with a look of concern on her face.
Full of love.
