Some Sibling Reflection...

I remember being able to talk my little sister, Jennifer, into just about anything when were were young.  Unzip bean bags for the purpose of ensconcing ourselves with those delightful little Styrofoam balls? Sure!  Write on walls with Crayola-Crayon-shaped, flavored lip-gloss? Ok! I was, without question, the ornery one. She suffered many punishments  because of her trust in me. Once, with the help of a cousin, I even had her convinced I was dead.  DEAD!  How awful was I? (I did get in trouble all by myself for that doozy.)

And when the little brother came along years later? Let's just say that the two of us were quite a formidable, antagonistic force against which my poor brother had to struggle. Often.  Just ask him today.  He'll be glad to tell you just how diabolical we were.

Since those care-free, rough-and-tumble days of youth, my brother joined the Army. He has had a fascinating career as a medic, filled with deployments to hostile places (from which he has always returned unscathed, thankfully) and hospital assignments at which he has healed countless veterans and civilians.  He has become a strong man, a supportive husband, and a fun-loving yet disciplined father, despite all of my relentless, youthful torture. My sister served her country abroad, became a mother and a wife, and blessed all of those around her with her desire to love and support every single person she met.  Ever.  She became a kind-hearted yet tenacious soul who I greatly admired.  Then she died. Far too early. Her death impacted me in ways that were immediate, and in much more profound ways that I still continue to discover.

My siblings have been on my mind more often than usual lately, so I thought writing about them would be healthy. Because without reflection, life slips by us too quickly, memories fade, and we stop growing.  And if we stop growing, then what is the point?