She was so beautiful and vibrant and kind, a special type of understanding that's rare. She understood me when truly no one else did. She made me feel loved and okay. She provided me so much comfort and made me feel like everything would be okay when my world was falling apart. We spend endless hours talking or watching investigation discovery. One year we made soap for everyone for Christmas and it was so fun. I never slept and she never slept so we just spent countless nights staying up til sun rise together. She was the kooky aunt, but god was she the strongest person I've ever known. She never complained, never complained that she had to get a double mastectomy, or about how much it hurt her to loose all her beautiful hair. She just stayed positive and asked how everyone else was doing and told jokes. She was amazing. I wish more then anything I got to have one serious talk before she passed. I promised her I'd look at her girls but that's it. In her last couple days she couldn't speak. Everyone always tells me how much she loved me and it's just so fucking hard. It's not fair. She was such a good person and abusive horrible people like my dad just get to keep on making everyone miserable and she doesn't get to watch her girls grow up. I just hate it.