Elizabeth as a toddler was adorable, so cuddly and sweet. I remember her at the age of 4 or 5 following me around like a little shadow, watching me cut my friend’s hair ( I was the local stylist). We all thought she was like a little doll and would pick her up and cart her around. I remember trying to teach her to do handstands and cartwheels. I remember dying her hair and putting make up on her. She was my baby sister and an aunty to my 3 children. She would sit with them for hours painting or playing games with them. She had endless patience and they truly loved her. Elizabeth had a loud, infectious laugh and once she got going it was hard for her to stop.
This past Christmas we were all together and when I look at the piano I see her sitting there. I hear her singing when we had our big family sing along. We rummaged through boxes of books thrown away by someone and had a good giggle as we then had to lug about 10 books down to the dollar store to buy a canvas (she was starting a painting with my daughter)
It’s her laugh more than anything. You remember that laugh, loud and endless.