Yesterday I talked on the phone with my sister, and tonight I chatted with my brother. Hearing their voices buoys my spirits.
I’m the baby of the family, and had anyone divulged to my 7-year-old self that I would adore my older siblings one day, I would have contemplated wedging a ginormous wad of abc green apple bubble gum right up his/her nose, because gum up the snout is a suitable punishment for people who lie to children.
Obviously, I would never have actually performed such a heinous act, because I was an angel. Honest.
At the age of 7 I didn’t care much for the pecking order. In retrospect, it turned out to be a good deal having two people who believed protecting me was a directive straight from God. Yeah, I survived the usual torture doled out by older siblings, but it was a small price to pay for the blessings that ran alongside it.
All those childhood arguments and fights and disagreements and rivalries that comprised every day living were stepping stones that gave way to hugs and kisses and laughter and shared tears and grief and memories of things so good that it aches to remember them.
We can’t pick our siblings. They are given to us without our input or permission. But if we are very lucky and all the stars align, we get to grow up with our very best friends.
Til next time –