Dr Wendy Tagg has missing photos in her album of memories, while Judith Abbs says there isn’t a word for a sibling who is now alone.
My brother died six years ago, but every day I still miss the memories of “not one but two childhoods” that died with him.
Mine did too, 24 February) took me right back to a vague memory of hurtling down a snowy hill on the big wooden sleigh that my father had made.
He would have known which hill it was, the route we took, whether we drove there in the blue Reliant or the beige Morris, whether I was wearing the red woolly coat that was once his.
Jason Hazeley’s piece on the death of his sister (When my sister died, it wasn’t just her own childhood memories that disappeared.
