I wrote this shortly after my friend, Rose White, died. I was unable to attend her memorial service. Her husband Bob read it to those gathered to remember her. There will never be another Rose.
In the ten years we spent as near neighbors, Rose always went first, and I was right behind her, cheering her on, ready to come right up behind her. Rose did not have my back, I had hers. She had my front and led the way. And it made all the difference. Continue reading