When my daughter Meghann was young, she often referred to Matt and Brad as the brothers ... not "my" brothers, but "the" brothers. I remember wondering why she said it the way she did when she talked about her two older male siblings, but I suppose that's one of those things I may never know. One thing I always prayed for my kids when they were little ones was that when they were adults, they would have a close relationship with one another. Now that I think about it, when they were young children, the three of them were almost inseparable and they really got along pretty well for the most part. But then came the teenage years, and it was, more often than not, my two boys against my one girl. Those were fun times for this old mama for sure ... not. However, now that they are all adults, despite some rocky times here and there, my three children have come full circle and there's a deep love that exists among them. And one huge thing I've seen during the last few weeks is that the love my children have for one another shifts into hyperdrive when they are united in their concern for me ... there's no boys vs. girl ... there's only family, and family pulls together when one of them is hurting.
In my last post, I wrote about the sisterhood I've seen develop among the ladies in my office following our meeting last week. Many times, I have uttered the words, "We're family here," concerning the folks in my office. I've seen the people there pull together time and time again when one of us is sick or hurting or grieving. I've seen them cheer and applaud when one of us is happy or overjoyed or thrilled. We are family there ... I've said the words so many times over the last 10 years ... and we really are ... we are family there. And as much as I've been touched by the sisterhood I've seen growing among the gals over the last few days, I was struck today with the overwhelming recognition that there's a brotherhood among some of the men as well, a brotherhood of men with big hearts and deep love and concern for one of us who's wounded and hurting.
As I was leaving the office on Friday, I stopped and talked to a couple of the men whom I knew had been concerned about me over the last few weeks, and I was blown away by their encouragement and support. Today as I spoke with a couple more of the guys, the emotion that filled my heart spilled over into the tears that filled my eyes. For all the people who say men don't bond like women, that men don't overflow with compassion for another, that men don't notice the pain in someone else's heart ... I say hogwash. Friday and today, I saw men with open arms, teary eyes and loving spirits. I saw men who care ... men who care deeply about a member of their family who is struggling ... I saw men who care, because I saw men who care for me.
Driving home after work this evening, I couldn't help but think about all the words of love that have been spoken to me since last Wednesday. I couldn't help but think about the people who have done more than notice the pain in my eyes. I couldn't help but think about the ones who have walked through the fire with me. I couldn't help but think about the ones who have given all new meaning to the words support, love, encouragement, forgiveness, acceptance and understanding. I couldn't help but think about my children and their unconditional love for me. I couldn't help but think about sisterhood. I couldn't help but think about brotherhood. I couldn't help but welcome the tears that filled my eyes. I couldn't help but thank God for my kids. I couldn't help but thank Him for my sisters. I couldn't help but thank Him for my brothers. I couldn't help but thank Him for giving me another day ... I couldn't help but feel the love, friends, I couldn't help but feel the love.
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