This morning my two older brothers came over and helped me move the boxes containing most of my material possessions into the attic. (The other portion of my stuff is in a large suitcase that will be heading to Montana with me.)
Those two. They are so incredible.
I have this picture on my bulletin board (now in the attic) of the three of us. In the photo I'm probably less than a year old. I'm propped up on four-year-old-Wayne's lap and toddler-Nate has my tiny little hand in his. It's one of my favorite things to look at. We're in front of a pink bush.
After moving my stuff, we went to lunch together. (I'm leaving tomorrow and Wayne is off to Argentina on Monday.) It was the best thing ever to spend a couple hours just talking to them and laughing with them. We were raised on one wavelength; the same things make us laugh and we don't have to explain them to each other. We can talk about stupid things or deep things; quote Youtube or discuss the world and why families are so important.
I don't have time to do this post justice, but a blog post could never capture the magnificence of my brothers anyway. I'm indescribably grateful for them.