Southern Ramblings

Why I love coming from a large family I came from a big family. I have a lot of aunts and uncles and cousins. These are people I love and hold dear to my heart, but that's not what we'll discuss today. My parents have been married for 36 years and I have four sisters. We are close. REALLY close. I have laughed with these people, loved with these people. We have endured heartbreak together, and reached milestones together. My parents have done their due diligence raising us. It couldn't have been easy.  There are eighteen years between my oldest and youngest sisters. The age difference fades as we all enter adulthood. The playing field levels and our bonds grow closer. These are my people. My tribe. Never more than a phone call away. Most of us even live on the same property in rural Mississippi.  Growing up with a house full of girls was hard. Our personalities are different, we handle life, love and sadness differently. Our words could be reckless, and we even resorted to ...

The stories from our lives, a little at a time. Three miscarriages in four years. Desperation and despair creeped into our lives. There were so many sad thoughts hiding behind our smiles. I quickly learned why the average pregnant woman waited twelve weeks to share her good news. My daughter was asking for a baby sister. There is no real way to explain these grownup situations to a toddler. "A new baby will come when it's time. It's not time yet." And that was the best explanation I could give her. Her brown curls bounced when she twirled for me, happy with the same response she'd gotten a hundred times. That toddler was always under my feet. A cuddler. On the special occasions when she slept in my bed, her little fingers would burrow under my arms or waist. Momma's baby girl. Daddy's girl, too. Mawmaw's girl. Granny's girl. She loved being the center of our world. She never fully embraced childhood, she wanted to be an adult. She wa...