Who bought our family a state-of-the art green fake Christmas tree when I was ten (maybe eleven) because our experiment with a real tree landed me in the emergency room with asthma by Christmas Day but rather than go back to our sterile aluminum one the next year, I declared I didn't want a tree at all?
… and then, as if that weren't enough, who bought some Winnie-the Pooh and fake gingerbread men ornaments to go on the tree so we didn't have to hang those same old red glass balls on it again?
And who gave me the huge pink stuffed elephant for my 11th birthday and then bought me that Flamenco dancer doll in the beautiful pink dress that I fell in love with at the record store in Market Square?
Who let me tag along with her when she worked as a lifeguard in Houston and when she visited her boyfriend who worked at Jack-in-the Box, back when the building was an actual box and I got to go up inside of it? And who would take me to the zoo and to Peppermint Park and to that place where they had the pony rides and to the movies and to Astroworld and to the beach… ?
I could go on and on and on like this … there are five decades of this stuff! … but I'll end with this one:
Who, besides my parents and Tom, loves to indulge me?
My sister Brenda, that's who.
She'll tell you I was spoiled rotten but then confess to helping me get that way.
Yes, I found out today my Mystery Friend, my generous drumming benefactor who granted my wish for beautiful blue drumsticks, is none other than my wonderful big sister.
I should have known…
(Thank you, sweet sister! For everything!)
Long Hollow 
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