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I was the comfort my brother needed whenever he felt shy.
The snarls of hair that made both of my sisters cry.
The shadow that danced beneath my dad’s feet.
And  the pain that never allowed my mother to ever sleep.


I am the sweet sugar used in my mother's homemade jam.
The tough, grubby gloves for my father’s scratched up hands.
The encouraging voice in the back of my brothers head.
And the confidence my sisters use when I find them crying in bed.


I will be the excitement that tingles through my sisters spine’s when they say “I do”.
The tissues for my mother’s tears when she is a given a grand baby or two.
The hope my brother needs when it's his time to get down on one knee.
And  be the fast pace heartbeat my father feels when he lets his last baby go free.




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