Siblings

I have three younger sisters.  We all have unique personalities, a variety of interests and a bond that's so close that we can predict - with a fair measure of accuracy - each other's reactions to almost any situation.  My love for my sisters is deep, strong and without reserve.  I trust them with my children, with my secrets and with my heart.  I know that if I ever have to face an outside enemy, they will stand at my back, my sides and, most likely, at my front.  Even if they don't agree with me, they are always there for me.  As I am for them, even when they drive me crazy.

This is a bond that was forged during late night whisperings and endless games of M-O-N-O.  It was strengthened through hours of stacking firewood, standing up to playground bullies and holding hands as we walked into a new school.  It has seen us through broken hearts and first years away from home, through illness and hospitalization.  I relied on it when I went into labor and my sisters drove hours to be there for me.  Rachel called on it when she went into labor. I find comfort in knowing that no matter what the future holds, they'll be there.

Our foursome is so tight knit that I sometimes wonder if those outside our circle feel excluded.  I wonder how it must feel to look at this unit and be on the outside.  To know that you are loved, but not quite one of The Sisters.

Yesterday, I found out.

Joseph and Elizabeth were playing in her bedroom.  Joseph was talking a mile a minute and Elizabeth was giggling so hard I just had to see what was going on.  I poked my head in the doorway and saw Joseph laying on his back with Elizabeth crawling over him.  They both glanced up at me with The Look.

The Look we used to use when our parents interrupted our games.

The Look I give Chad when he dares to make a comment about one of my sister.

The Look one gives an interloper.

Backing out of the room, I smiled.  I felt left out, but happy that they have each other.