Above is the house Christine Rosamond lived in when she drowned. A dentist owned it for awhile, and when he put it up for sale, he hung Rosamond’s artwork on the wall. He had a collection of her work. After the funeral, we gathered around the small island in the kitchen. Here was the last time we were sane. My mother and her sister sat across from me. We shared Royal’s quirky humor. Lilian went looking for something to drink, but, Christine left the Rosy Rosamond Circle on her first sober birthday. Rosemary produced a flask, and poured herself a Vodka drink. My aunt tried to get some, and her sister moved the flask away. We all laughed. I had my friend go to the store and get a quart. I had seven years sobriety. That’s Lillian and Rosemary on the left, with June and Bonnie. These names invoke – flowers. No…