I remember the story dad told me about the time he first met you. I remember spending countless snow days trapped in our house with you. I remember coming home from Fillmore and you hitting the stop sign when it was snowy. I remember your car getting ketchup and mustard on it. I remember your terrible driving in snow and on normal days for that matter. I remember the awesome trips we went on for you while you were in dance. I remember when you were in high school and there would always be loud trucks that drove by. I remember the two of us always playing with Cookie after opening presents on Christmas morning. I remember when you weren’t supposed to tell me that I was getting a cell phone for Christmas, I actually thought you were joking the entire time. I remember you Abbie.