I peeked at the side of the can and it said, sister.
Yup, I sure was. And the rest of her gorgeous family. It got me to thinking, we've shared an awful lot these last 13 years...
Her first keg party and my home-hosted event.
Graduations.
Movies.
Slopitch games.
Family vacations.
Blue Jays games.
America's Next Top Model.
Shopping.
Ok, lots of shopping.
Tapas.
Our weddings.
Bridal and baby showers.
Our neighbourhood.
Our neighbourhood school.
Play dates.
So You Think You Can Dance.
Meals.
Baking.
Birthday parties.
Dance parties.
Late night walks.
More importantly, we've shared our journey as mothers.
Two pregnancies in tandem.
Seven beautiful children in total.
Gripes over swollen feet, giant boobs and clothes that didn't fit.
Slurpee, ice cream and candy cravings.
Tears.
Panic over unknown illnesses, bumps on the head and fevers.
Joy in first steps, words and smiles.
Pure exhaustion.
The baby blues.
Money, and the lack of it available to make ends meet.
Discipline.
Disappointment.
Grief.
BBM conversations at nearly every hour of the day and night, about the highs and lows of our day. About our lacking desire to be a mom. About our amazing kids. About the incredible heartache of losing a daughter and niece. About being fully convinced that our children were going to push us to the brink of insanity.
We've laughed as much as we've cried.
We've shared brilliant days and many difficult, if not painful ones.
We've borrowed strength, shared hugs and reminded each other we are never alone.
Last May, two births. One enormous loss. Grief. Rage. Guilt.
This May, one birth. One first birthday on earth, one in heaven. More grief. More guilt.
What a journey.
My sister,
This last year has bonded us in a way most will never fully understand. I will never, ever forget that day. Seeing you walk up my driveway, tears streaming down your face. The following days of waiting, praying, induction, early morning conversation and the moment little Kinsley's photo popped up on my phone. I wanted to run down to that hospital and hold her, hug you and carry your broken heart.
Your boys are my sons. Your daughters, mine too. Your angel in heaven makes her presence known in my home, and she watches over all of our children each and every day. We are one big family.
I love you, my sister. And I want you to know that I couldn't do this thing... this mama thing... without you.
xoxo
