My mother died in the summer of 2021 just as I was recovering from Covid. She was a painter too but our relationship was never easy. At her funeral, a woman walked towards me that I vaguely recognized. I still have a strong sense of disbelief that here was my sister after 50 years of separation and we are like two peas in a pod. The whole process of discovering my sister was joyful and painful. We shared a deep sense of being cheated out of each other`s love. Neither of us grew up feeling we belonged anywhere. Like two flowers we managed to flourish despite the poor soil. I was speechless to discover we even attended the same school and both of us were unaware of each other. She paints, of course, we love the same music, we mother like lionesses and shortly after that meeting she sent me a beautiful David Austen rose bush called Ballerina. She is a beautiful soul.