Once upon a time, we gathered up all my sisters, and our babies (also girls), plus my mom, plus the dogs (also girls), and had the lovely Jostlyn of Roz Photography take our photos.
I grew up with just sisters. No brothers. And when I tell people that, they generally groan in anticipated sympathy. That's when I break it to them - we got along really well. We were all best friends. We fought rarely. When my mom had a fourth surprise baby (and didn't find out the gender while pregnant), we each secretly dreaded the thought of a brother. When it came out a sister, there were shouts of glee.
Growing up with only sisters is a fairly messy shared bathroom. Growing up with only sisters is a shared understanding, always. Growing up with only sisters is negotiating emotional roller coasters and forgiving quickly. Growing up with only sisters is eating ice cream out of the carton, commiserating until the wee hours. Growing up with only sisters is a secret knock on the shared wall of your bedrooms. Growing up with only sisters is waking up in the morning to see a little sister who had taken refuge from her fears on your floor. Growing up with only sisters is having a best friend nearby, always.
We're all fairly grown up now. And we're all different. But we all have the same face, and we're still all best friends. My mom fostered a friendship in each of us and taught us how important it is to keep your very best friends close. Sisters really are the best, and I'm so very grateful for mine.
And I'm so grateful my girls have each other.