There have been a lot of posts and pictures on my social network feeds these past few days about Sibling Day, about which I have terribly mixed emotions. I did not grow up in a happy family. In fact things were so bad that at some point it became necessary for me to walk away from the whole batch of them and never look back. I am happy now with my own family and learning to give to my children the happy memories I sorely lack.
It's like my second chance at a happy childhood by proxy or something. No, it doesn't make the past alright. In fact it makes it worse by giving me daily examples of how my own childhood could have - and should have - been better. But I'm old enough now to know that in life, you take what you can get, count your blessings, and consider yourself lucky regardless. As I like to say when people ask me how I am, it could be worse.
Oh yes. It could always be worse. So I'm happy.
And one thing that makes me especially grateful for the life I have now is how my three girls get along. It's not perfect, of course - they bicker and argue like anyone else. But they have a profound attachment to each other that is glorious to see. I consider it my sacred duty to help guide them as they grow so they never lose that bond.
These girls know and love each other like no one else (except for their parents). I hope they continue to treasure that all their lives.