So, I am writing this in the final minutes of Day 59, having just returned home from my monthly Girls Night Out with three of my favorite people: Debbie, Stacey, and Susan. As usual, we ate, imbibed, and talked on and on before we realized it might be difficult to wake up with the little ones tomorrow morning.
It is a sisterhood of sorts. A shared bond between young mothers who are all finding their way through early childhood rearing, as well as a bunch of other challenges that equal in their own unique surprises.
We are sisters of the heart.
Of course, saying that seems completely natural since we found each other, shared similar perspectives on the important stuff, and just enjoyed each other's company all the same.
My brother Paul, however, shares his own brotherhood with entirely different credentials.
He serves his time abroad, shoulder to shoulder with men he might not normal socialize with. Who he may not normally seek out, share stories, or even like a whole lot. Their brotherhood is entirely different than my little sisterhood, though no less important in its purpose, and far more significant in its endeavors.
They are sons of their country, brothers in service, and eternally linked by time trodden boots and the burden of battle.
This is Day 59.
I'm 32, a dad, and I am not a douchebag...
6 years ago