We spent Thanksgiving with my husband’s brother and wife. We see them once a year, usually this time of year. I like seeing my husband with his brother. They love each other. I imagine them as children. I am very close to my brother and understand how meaningful the sibling relationship can be. I hear stories about their childhood – like when my brother-in-law used to steal my husband’s bottle, drink all the milk and hand him back an empty bottle. No one quite understands who you are like a brother or sister. They know intimately where you grew up, how you grew up. They know what it was like to grow up under your parents with their own set of gifts and flaws. And although no relationship is all roses, you leave being glad you had another chance to see them. I’m glad that I was able to contribute to their having a good time together: by doing little things like playing hostess in our hotel room, serving little snacks, taking lots of pictures for a photo book, and trying to shut up while they watched football (major sacrifice).
My husband means the world to me and his relationship with his brother is precious. Thank God for families and love.