Yesterday we had a minor trauma at our house. It all began when Milah grabbed something from Maren and while casually walking by the stool where Maren was perched, she suddenly launched herself onto Milah's back and they both crashed to the floor with Milah landing on top of Maren. (I will pause this moment and tell you that the act of flying through the air and attaching yourself to an unsuspecting victim was funny to witness), but Maren's cry alerted me that something was definitely wrong. After assessing the aftermath, Maren did indeed suffer a wound due to a pencil stabbing, and there were more blood and tears. But, amidst the commotion, I realized that Milah had suddenly "gone to pieces" and was shaking and bawling worse than the victim.
A day later, the wound is healing and the laundry has washed the blood away, but the experience gave me a glimpse into the deep feeling of love between them. Once upon a time, Milah chopped part of a toe off in a stationary bike mishap. While on the way to the hospital, her brother was lovingly holding her head, stroking her hair and singing softly to her. As a mother, I have a vision of my children as adults - each having an interest in the other, and spending time together (hopefully not in group therapy trying to heal from their childhood). Perhaps this is like wishing in the tooth fairy, but I hope not. I know they have their squabbles (sometimes near attacks), but I know that they would be lost without each other.
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