I grew up the fifth born of six children. Two boys, four girls.
Having sisters meant fighting over borrowed clothing, arguing about chores, and using the phrase, "I'll tell mom...", to instil fear.
Thankfully it also meant, sharing emotional secrets, banding together to support each other's battles, and having great memories to laugh and cry about years after we've become independent from one another.
Beautiful and unique all of my sisters now have children of their own, and it's amazing to see them raise a new generation of siblings.
Sisters are more than friends...they are extensions of one another.
My jaw just dropped. These are stunning.
ReplyDeleteWell said Amanda...well said
ReplyDeleteNot only are the photos of my granddaughters beautiful, but the words that come through your fingers amaze me each time I read your posts. I am proud to be your mother.
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