Yesterday, for the first time in as long as I can remember, my five siblings and I descended on my parents’ home in Indiana. We’d travelled from the Carolinas and Virginia, some driving, some flying, and settled into our sibling personalities with ease and comfort. I think I become a slightly different person when I transition from mom and wife to daughter and sister again. I think I feel younger when I am in the company of my siblings, and I know I feel safer. We’re a formidable crew, we are.
The best part of our gathering so far (other than the obvious joy at my sister’s upcoming wedding) is that for the first time ever, all eight grandchildren played and laughed and cried under one roof, or rather, under a beautiful summer sky. After a delicious dinner, kids and grownups alike changed into bathing suits and mom and dad’s normally quiet and placid pool became a raucous water park. You sat close to the pool at your own risk, with little bodies making great big splashes. Louis, the French Bull Dog, kept watch as boys and girls performed cannonballs and the occasional belly flops, ever vigilant of the occasional gasp from swallowed pool water.
Bless my parents for welcoming all 19 of us into their normally quiet home for a wonderful evening. Bless them especially for giving me this great brood in which to grow up and with whom to grow and share my own family.