Sibling Day.

In honor of National Sibling Day (which I'm a day late for), I'm writing about my siblings. Sometimes I'm so original, I can't even stand it.

I have three siblings - all adults now. The two sisters as bookends, and a brother stuck in the middle with me. Often unbelievably different in ways that are hard to express. The way we interpret words on a page. The way we cope with frustrations and sadness and joy. The way we love, and the way we want to be loved.

But if given the choice between alike and different, I'd choose different every time.

My older sister is a teacher, a lover of books, a nurturer, a master of social work, an explorer. She's firm in her convictions, and can remember song lyrics better than anyone I know. She was my first friend. She was the one who did my makeup on my wedding day, rubbed my back through disappointments and was always a constant voice of reason.

My brother is a gardener, a weatherman, a pickup truck driver, a lover of discussion and of meeting new people. He can sleep through almost anything. He loves snow and rain, watches for it constantly. He's funny - sometimes when you least expect it. The back of his neck turns fire engine red every summer from working outside.

My younger sister is a softball player, a baker, an artist, a physical therapist in the making. She can be friends with anyone, regardless of age or background. She cares for her birds like they're children. She's not afraid of new adventures and challenges. Almost overnight, she's become a strong, beautiful young woman.

Today, even more than so many other days, I'm missing these faces.

Happy National Sibling Day to those who belong to me. I'm so glad that you do.