Reading this one, I was reminded rather painfully of a similar experience with my folks; how my mother never appreciated my father's generic anniversary cards until he became too old and infirm to drive out and buy them anymore. Sometimes we never understand the motives of our loved ones until they're already dead and gone. Proof positive that the little things are the ones that make all the difference.

An endearing monologue on tradition and ritual between siblings. And how sometimes thinking back after the death of a loved one makes how they showed their love even more powerful. A sweet monologue for a festival on mourning and death and faith.