Except that there are five of us.
Growing up my family had close ties to another family just
up the road. My sister and I were close friends with the three sisters. Our
school district was quite small so classes were often shared among the grades.
My best friend from the age of six was the oldest of us. One grade ahead of me
she led the way from elementary school to high school. She paved the way
through our teen years and into college. Though we are geographically distant,
to this day we are as close as ever. I know I can call her any time of day or
night and she will pick up the phone.
Her younger sisters were spaced between me and my sister in
terms of age. My sister had the privilege of sharing classes with both. And a
classroom with the youngest. The bond among the three of them is strong and
everlasting.
The years have taken each of us in different directions.
Three of us have stayed in New England. One moved to Texas. Another lives in
Switzerland.
Their father recently passed away. It was sudden and
unexpected. We came together as a family to love, and hold each other tight. Such
an event is never the easiest way to reunite. The occasion brought us together
to celebrate his life, and our lives together.
Our lives are different from the characters in Louisa May
Alcott’s novels, but track closely all the same. We grew up together. Shared
triumphs and disappointments. And have experienced life, and loss, together. As
adults we continue to be more than friends. We are family.
We are our own Little Women.
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