The Comfort of Siblings

Had a great weekend with my family, even though we gathered for a sad occasion. Was more than happy (thrilled? delighted? comforted.) to spend Saturday night with my brother, sister in law, sister of sister in law, and dearest cousin talking into the wee small hours of the morning.

There is such an amazing comfort in the company of siblings and those you love like siblings. When you look at someone else and see your eyes, or your smile, or your Reckenroll nose and know that someone else sees the world through your same DNA. It's a feeling of belonging like no other and one that I don't think could be replicated in anyway. The months I spent fighting with my brother last year were the longest of my life. We're better friends than ever because of it but I would take it all back if I could. I was reminded on the weekend of how glad I am we moved past it...stubborn as we are.

I never really like the book On Beauty by Zadie Smith but I've always loved the following passage:

"People talk about the happy quiet that can exist between two loves, but this, too, was great; sitting between his sister and his brother, saying nothing, eating. Before the world existed, before it was populated, and before there were wars and jobs and colleges and movies and clothes and opinions and foreign travel -- before all of these things there had been only one person, Zora, and only one place: a tent in the living room made from chairs and bed-sheets. After a few years, Levi arrived; space was made for him; it was as if he had always been. Looking at them both now, Jerome found himself in their finger joints and neat conch ears, in their long legs and wild curls. He heard himself in their partial lisps caused by puffy tongues vibrating against slightly noticeable buckteeth. He did not consider if or how or why he loved them. They were just love: they were the first evidence he ever had of love, and they would be the last confirmation of love when everything else fell away."


— Zadie Smith (On Beauty)