Best Friends

I think the greatest gift that I have given my kids is the gift of each other. Emily is 3 1/2 years older than Lou. After almost 3 years, Charlie was born, and 3 1/2 years later came Patch. For 10 years I had babies. I always knew I wanted more than one child but how many and the time span in which they were to be born was something I just never really thought about. I just kinda "knew" when it was time to start trying for another. Thankfully, pregnancy came extremely quick for me. (although some might say too quick in the case of that first one. ahem.)
When we decided to try for a baby after Emily, I prayed she would have a sister. Of course, the visions of two beautiful girls dressed prissily in matching frocks polluted my mind, but my overwhelming desire was to "grow" a best friend for Emily. Tucker was of like mind, although everyone just assumed he wanted a boy. He still talks about how annoyed he was when people used to comment on how disappointed he must be that it was another girl! Emily loved her baby sister from the moment she found out she was on her way. Although they have the occasional sibling squabble, they truly are best friends. They are together most of the time and understand one another like no other.
When we decided to have our fourth, which literally was a split moment decision, I thought how fabulous it would be for Charlie to have what Lou and Em have! The girls loved Charlie, but it was undeniable the bond that they shared as sisters. Could having a brother be just as wonderful to my son? Ironically, we were told very early on in my fourth pregnancy that we were expecting a girl. We were happy, but disappointed Charlie would miss out on having a brother. (surely no more Hearnlets after 4!!) For weeks we referred to the baby growing inside me as Clara, and mentally prepared ourselves for little girl #3. However, during a routine ultrasound it was confirmed that this last little baby was in fact a boy! Our little girl had grown a winkie!!
Charlie and Patch are to each other what Lou and Em are. They understand one another in a way no one else does. They are "bubbies" and they are best friends. They have each other now and will forever.
I know I had no hand in my children's birth order, but I marvel at God's perfection. He gave my children each other in the most perfect ways imaginable. They are better people for having each other and I am so very thankful.

Take Me out to the Soccer Field

Because we had so much empty space to fill in our lives, we decided to sign up the 3 year old for soccer. Well, that's not exactly true. Our soccer complex recently started a U4 division, (that is under 4 for all of you non-soccer savvy peeps) and since their practices just so happens to coincide with one of the 20 times we are at the fields each week anyway, we decided to give it a shot.
Patch has grown up on the fields. Soccer has been a huge part of our family since well before he was conceived and he was only a few months old when he went to his first game. He has watched as Louie and then Charlie have toddled their way up and down the field chasing after those balls. When he began walking, he insisted that he, too, had some little ball out there to kick around. A few seasons ago, our league began to phase out the old uniforms for a new style. As Lou and Charlie got their new duds, Patch became the happy recipient of their cast offs. He was so enamoured with them that he would often sleep in them or wear them to school despite the fact that he could fit at least two of his little friends in there with him!!
So the chance to get him out there, intentionally and purposely was really exciting. His first practice was this past Monday. He got his official U4 soccer tshirt (with smiley face soccer ball emblazoned on it) and was assigned his "country"- Italy. Then the head coach called all the little players to sit on the field and listen for instructions. Forty-five 3 and 4 year olds gathered around and hung on this man's every word. They sat still and listened intently to what they would be doing. It was surreal! These little people were so excited to be there, that they weren't gonna risk the chance of having to leave by misbehaving in any way!!
The countries all split up, (so much for the United Nations, huh?)and went out to "practice." This included everything from playing duck, duck goose while dribbling a ball, to playing freeze tag. Essentially they were learning skills the only way kids that age can...through trickery!! But it was fantastic, and they had such a great time!
By the end of practice Little Man was whooped but so very happy! He woke up bright and early the next morning asking if it was another practice day!

The kids have been back in school for a month now and tomorrow is Labor Day. Although the official end to summer is still a couple of weeks away, the summer "as we know it" has come to an end.
Due to the recession's unwelcome presence in our life, this is the first summer in a long time where we vacationed solely at home. Both Tucker and I commented on how much we enjoyed ourselves despite the lack of out of town plans and our busy work schedules. We really made an effort to hang out a lot as a family at the pool and in the yard with the occasional weenie/marshmallow roast. We learned this summer, that vacationing is not about packing a suitcase and traveling by car or plane. We were able to channel that vacationing spirit at home with each other, being silly and cheering each other on.

Friends Forever

I'm super duper lucky. I actually can "grow" my own friends. What a cool trick, huh?
Today Emily came home from school feeling just horrible. After two solid weeks of sick kids, I knew I couldn't risk not having her looked at so we called to see if she could be seen. To my surprise, they told us to come in at 7pm. Our amazing pediatricians office was offering extended hours because there had been so many sick kids!
After a long day, she and I headed back out to see what was going on. On the way there we talked about how her heart has grown since going through the confirmation process at church and how cool it was that we could now share shoes. She told me how some of the kids at school are really starting to create serious trouble for themselves, and I shared how shocked I was when I was her age and saw the same thing happen with kids I had known from an early age. When we finally got to the office we sat and we talked, laughing the entire time about nothing and everything. And once in the examining room, we talked and we talked and we talked some more. Even though we were there because she was sick, it almost felt like a special one on one girls night out!
After her appointment we ate dinner in the car while we were waiting for her prescription to be filled. The entire night should have been a chore for both of us really, but it was such a blessing.
Emily is still a kid and I need to remember that sometimes, but every day she is becoming more and more grown. Not only do I love her as my baby, but I am beginning to really appreciate her as a friend. Although she is very much her own person, she also possesses qualities of both Tucker and I which of course I am very much compatible with. It is just really cool to think that out of the love Tucker and I have for each other came this sweet, special person who is fast becoming one of my most respected friends.
There is a well known cliche that says that we pick our friends not our family. How special is it when we choose to have our family BE our friends!

Tinkle...uhh, no thanks...I'm good...

I have never fancied myself a "dog person." I grew up with cats and I really relate to their laid back lifestyles. Tucker on the other hand always had a houseful of dogs running around. People are generally one or the other; cat people or dog people- so I thought.
Before Godiva died, I was convinced that when she and Arthur went to the great Puppy Heaven in the Sky, I would NEVER have dogs again. I loved them but they were high-strung, high-energy smelly creatures. I was looking forward to the peaceful relaxing life of kitty calmness.
When Godiva died so suddenly everything in my heart changed. It wasn't any longer about the chaos, it was about the loss of a friend- for my children, for Arthur AND for me. Suddenly, I went into overdrive to protect the dog we had left. Arthur got brushed every night, began wearing cute sweaters, and was constantly in my lap. His depression over the loss of Godiva was so obvious and disheartening. He no longer wanted to play or eat. Arthur was dying before my eyes. He could not go on without his best friend. My heart was breaking.
I began to question whether Arthur needed a new friend to help ease his pain. Tucker, who is the consummate dog lover, assured me Arthur would be fine, and in time he would recover from the shock of Diva's loss. Time went on and his depression only seemed to intensify, until one day my father in law brought his brand new puppy over for a visit. Arthur perked up and immediately began to "mother" the new baby. I'm sure at that time Tucker knew he had lost the new dog battle with me, but I continued to play the "let's wait and see game."
I began researching on-line various pet rescues in the area. I looked quite extensively at the local Humane Society's page. I knew I wanted another small dog for Arthur, but the only one I really saw was a funny looking white scruffy thing with dark black circles for eyes. Her name was "Tinkle." Not a good omen for house breaking. I emailed the office of the Humane Society asking to be on the look out for a compatible friend for Arthur and decided to back off. The next day I got a call from a woman at the office saying she had quite possibly a very good match for my boy; a little white poodle named...wait for it, wait for it...TINKLE!! Oye vey!
Despite my misgivings over "Tinkle" I decided to bring in Arthur for a visit to see if Tinkle, or hopefully another dog would be a good match for him.
Arthur was so nervous. By now he had gotten quite skinny and feeble looking. The barks of the other dogs scared him so I ended up holding him. We were put in a room where we could spend some quiet time with "Tinkle." That crazy dog, who was probably part poodle but a whole lot of who knows what, was shaved almost completely bare, had a hairless curly rat tail, and kept peeing on the floor in front of us. The lady at the shelter explained that when she was found, her hair was so badly matted and overgrown that they had to shave her all the way down. She assured me that in time Tinkle would be beautiful. "Ummmm, yah, ok...whatever. Let's look at some other dogs."
So we walked around and saw some beautiful animals. I was shocked that THESE were shelter animals. They were the kind of animals people pay top dollar for. But I kept having a nagging pull back to that ratty little Tinkle. Damn you, conscience! I watched as she watched out her little window at us. Scratching the glass as if to say, "hey, where are you going? What about me?" uggh. Catholic guilt. It doesn't matter that I left the church, I kept the guilt.
We filled out the paperwork to adopt Tinkle. Consequently, I was told her name had only been Tinkle for the week and half since she had been in the shelter so I was free to change it if I would like. Well, that was certainly something.
I paid an enormous adoption fee, which eventually caused me to be overdrawn. *The first time in my adult life I have bounced a check and it was for TINKLE!!* What the hell!
Fast forward two months. "Lida Rose" (I always wanted a daughter by that name) is so amazing. She and Arthur have healed each other's heartaches. She has brought a wonderful energy into our lives. Her transition has been seamless. And yes, she has grown hair on her naked little rat tail, and no, she does not "tinkle" in the house.
So I guess I am a dog person after all, but I am also a cat person. I am so blessed to have these furry angels in my life. I really believe God or perhaps Godiva, (possibly both) had a hand/paw in placing Lida in our lives. Really, all bets were against her yet here she is. It sure is crazy how little control we have in our own lives!

Snowy Blessings

I am such a homebody. I could be perfectly happy to stay in my cozy, little world for the rest of my days without ever venturing beyond the outer limits. But with the entirety of my family being outside of my immediate area, travel is necessary from time to time. Because the school system is so graciously furloughing my husbands work days, we had a block of days off in mid-February that we used to travel to North Carolina to see my family. (Well, really my nieces, but the rest of the family too!)
Imagine our surprised when we were blessed with a beautiful snow fall!! Not only did the kids get to enjoy rarely seen snow, but they were able to do so in the company of their cousins!! The 6 kids looked out the window Friday night as the snow fell, anxiously waiting for their time in the white stuff. When the morning finally came around my sister, Beth, had to scrounge around the house for enough boots, mittens and the like for all of the children. (as well as her ill-prepared sister!!)
Together the six kids made snow angels, and ran around in a flurry of activity. In quieter moments they all sampled the deliciousness of the cold treat.
Snow for a child, in any circumstance, is such a blessing and whirlwind of excitement, but for "the cousins" it was made doubly so, because they were able to enjoy it together. It really went along way to remove the sting of traveling for me!

Happy New Year!!

After an wonderful Christmas break, (the best I can ever remember, actually)Tucker and I were looking forward to celebrating New Year's Eve with the kids in our traditional Hearn way.-- snacks and tv until the "moment of truth," then kisses for everyone and bed.
Last night, the mere thought of the kids being able to stay up until midnight gave them more than excitement than they could handle. Being able to eat snacks in the play room really pushed them into high gear!! While Tucker and I enjoyed 30 Rock reruns in the den, our 4 babies alternated between watching Teen Disney and playing in the playroom. At one point, my darling husband suggested we all play a board game together. Everyone readily agreed, but the game was short lived as every one's excitement and distraction got the better of them. (Secretly, I was a little overjoyed when the kids decided they'd rather go back and hang out in the playroom, and I got Tucker all to myself again!!) Poor, little Patch made it until about 10 before his baby timer was up. He wanted so much to stay up like the big kids, but he just couldn't make it and was just miserable trying. When I was carrying him back to his bed, he kept trying to demand that "Bubby" (aka Charlie) was a baby too, and thus needed to go to bed as well. Thankfully his new Spider Man sheets were on his bed, and he snuggled right in when he saw them.
As always, Tucker and I held each other as Dick Clark counted down to the New Year and kissed each other on the first moment of the New Year. We then went into the playroom and kissed the babies who remained awake, all of whom looked more than ready to go to bed themselves!!
Getting ready for bed, I was overwhelmed with all of the possibilities that await my family and I in the New Year. I can't begin to imagine what God has in store for us, but I know it is magnificent, as everything that He ever has a hand is! So, although I do not believe in New Year's Resolutions per se, (I think one should ALWAYS be willing to resolve to make their lives better no matter what time of year) I do pray that I am able to see the Lord in more of the details of my every day life and that I can share Him with others. I know that 2010, as every other year has been, is going to be a tremendous gift filled with unexpected blessings.

Our Diva

After Tucker and I made the "decision" to start a family so young, we were determined to give our child (just Emily at the time) as perfect and as normal a life as possible. We were determined to be the perfect family.
Tucker grew up with dogs. Lots of dogs. His parents were quintessential dog people, and he inherited that trait from them. Although I had a dog growing up, she died when I was young, and most of my "pet experience" was from cats. When Emily turned a year old, we decided it was time to find a furry friend to add to the family. We went over and over which kind of animal to get. In the end, we decided on a Chocolate Lab puppy because my mother's good friend had just bred her dog.
The Martins lived in a small town a little under an hour from our home. We packed Emily up, and away we drove to meet our new baby. They lived in a little ranch house on sprawling land. As we drove up, their German Shepherd came to greet us. Ms. Martin had set up an area in the yard surrounded by a large plastic baby gate. She went into her house and brought out two by two, little chocolate bundles of fur and placed them in the cordoned off area. She wanted us to be able to see all of the puppies and get a feel for which one belonged with us. I remember Tucker getting inside that little pen, and the puppies swarming all over him (with some even hanging onto his pant legs by their teeth!). In my mind I was thinking how different this would be from the cats I was used to, but seeing the look of joy in Tucker's eyes made me sure everything would be fine. The decision was ours to make. Which puppy would come home with us. They all were so similar yet different at the same time. The choice was so very overwhelming. Finally we decided on the pudgy, sleepy guy (or girl, as it was) in the back. She seemed a lot more laid back than her siblings, and she had kinda of a ho-hum Eeyore quality about her that appealed to us.
We named her Godiva, as in the high quality chocolate, but everyone who knew her called her Diva. (long i, not to be confused with Deeeva, as in spoiled pop princess)
It was hard getting used to raising a puppy those first few weeks, but it wasn't long before I felt as though we had had her forever. She was the consummate best friend to baby Emily, who had grown quite fond of riding her and resting her head on her during naps. Diva grew like a weed that first year but remained as gentle and as loving as the very first day.
She was a great pet and a great friend to my kids. I never had to worry about their safety when they were with her. She was so strong and so beautiful. Everyone who knew her, including my mother who is NOT a dog person, loved her and recognized how truly special she was.
We lost Godiva last week very unexpectedly almost eleven years after we got her. The vet said she seemed in perfect health, although given her "geriatric age" a heart attack was very likely. Our sweet Diva died in her daddy's arms on her way to the hospital. She died peacefully and with people who loved her; just as she lived.
Life is not the same without her, and everyone misses her terribly. It is hard to see other Labs and not feel a knot form in our chests.
I know how blessed we were to have her be part of our lives, and I know her legacy will live on in our children whom she taught to love animals.

Oh, Charlie...

Charlie has always been a relatively docile kid with the very occasional whiny spell. You can usually count on him to tell on himself if he does something naughty, because the wrongness of whatever he did really gets to him. Overall, he has really just been a dependable, all around good kid who stays out of trouble.
The other day, in an attempt to straighten the house, I told him to go cut off the balloons that had been tied to the knobs of his dresser for weeks. They had long since died and now were only strangulation hazards waiting to be discovered. I braced myself for some protesting on his part, because he loves balloons, but he was all to happy to oblige and off to the bedroom with the scissors he went.
The house remained a flurry of activity for the next hour or so. I was in the process of cookie decorating, the kids were all putting things away, and Tucker was doing laundry. We had ordered Chinese delivery earlier so that we would not have to stop our "productiveness" to cook a meal. The Chinese arrived and everyone excitedly sat down to the table to eat. There the six of us sat, passing around the different dishes and sauces and talking about our day. The Norman Rockwell family moment was ruined when Emily very innocently asked, "Did Charlie get a haircut?" Huh? Uh, no?
The entire table panned their eyes towards Charlie who is sitting in his chair with a butchered new do. "But my hair was in my eyes" he said. He instantly got upset because he knew he had been naughty, but we reassured him though it is never okay to cut anything but paper without permission, that we loved him and his hair would grow back. Eventually.
So it took us over an hour to realize what he had done which doesn't make me feel like the most together mother in the world. He continued to apologize all night until I told him I wanted to take his picture so I could exploit his mischievousness on facebook. My, how the mighty have fallen. Oh, Charlie!

Thank God

We were lucky enough to host the Connors again this year for Thanksgiving. It has become quite a nice tradition between the two families. The kids have literally grown up with one another so the relationships among all of them are very easy going. Every year these few days prove to be fun and relaxing for everyone.
It really is something how the Lord works. We say it all of the time, but when you slow WAY down to think about it, it really is just amazing. Janet and I really became "friends by accident." I'm sure when we met neither of us would have expected traveling hours to share Thanksgiving together, but... We are all very different people, but we honor those differences in one another and have developed close bonds because of it. Janet, to me, has become somewhat of a lighthouse. When I feel lost at sea, she has a way of bringing me back. Most of the time, I am sure she doesn't even know it.
So here is where the Lord comes in. It has been a very hard few months. There have been a lot of constant, little stresses. Just when I felt like I was getting my head above water, a wave would come and knock me back down. By the time the Thanksgiving holiday rolled around, I was wiped out. Having my friends visit really was what I needed. It really is funny. I look back on that week and try to gather what it was that really made the difference for me. Of course, not going to work and drinking a lot of beer helped, but it was just the friendship; knowing that I could eat pumpkin pie in pajamas for breakfast and that my friend would be doing the same, being able to sit in the den and knowing I didn't have to "entertain," watching my children snuggle up to their 'Aunt Janet' and 'Uncle Jimmy,' being able to look at little Sarah and Nate and still remember the moments I found out their momma was carrying them, staying up late and playing games...it just goes on. 13 years ago the Lord knew that these two families were going to be important for each other. He put us in each other's path so we could enrich our lives. It is so nice to realize that even though we may not have a clue what we are doing in our own lives, He is guiding us. He is sending us what we need to get through each day. It may come in the form of friends. It may come in the form of health. It may come in the form of wisdom. But he is looking after us, and making sure we are taken care of. I think, that that is what I am most thankful for this holiday season.

I Know Nuthin'

I am a seasoned mother. There are so few experiences I have not encountered through the raising of my four kids, that I am without a doubt an expert in the subject of parenting. I speak with such overwhelming authority to the parents of the students in my class, because, after all I know everything.
Well...
I think God has an enormous sense of humor. Just to make sure we don't get a little too carried away with our opinions of ourselves, He throws us curve balls every now and then. Like after I had Emily, the most docile child on the earth, I was convinced colic was just something bad parents made up because they couldn't make their babies happy. Enter Baby Elizabeth...I became convinced that I had been wrong with my initial hypothesis. Colic was not only real, it was enough to send someone over the edge.
One would have thought that lesson would have been enough to teach me that my limited experiences, do not make me an expert, but no. (some people never learn)
My final child is Patrick Bryan. Anyone who knows him, knows him by Patch. Patch was what Tucker and I decided to call him way before he was born, in an effort to prevent the inevitable Pat or Patty, and to bless him with a fun and unique name. Thus, Patch. It conjures up images of doctors who dress up as clowns, happy scarecrows, energetic mutts, and dastardly pirates. Perfect!
So this little guy was born and has by far lived up to his name. Every thing I learned in my years as a preschool teacher and a mother is null in the face of my Patch. It is not that he is bad, per se, he just is well, Patch. The only thing I know for sure, is that I can expect what is unexpected.

I miss my friend.

I miss my friend.
She passed away in February of 2008, but I feel like I just talked to her the other day. It makes me sad to think that life has been able to resume normally since she died; shouldn't daily operations have been altered forever in her absence? I logically know life doesn't work that way, but my heart does. I really miss my friend.
From the moment I met her, even before I met her, she was warm and welcoming to me. She made me feel accepted and special and wonderful. She personified grace in every way, and even though the same has never been true for me, she loved me and she showed it unwaveringly.
I have never met anyone who did not like her. Whenever anyone learns of my connection to her, they always respond with, "oh, she was such a sweet lady." And she was- such a lady and so very sweet. She spoke to everyone and wanted everyone to feel taken care of and spoiled. She treated the house painter as she would treat a friend. Everyone was entitled to respect, and she went out of her way to show it.
She loved to throw parties. From big, garish holiday parties, to backyard croquet matches, every detail was thought of- the food, the drink the music. She relished in making sure everyone was having a ball. Truly, nothing made her happier.
She loved her dogs. They were just as much members of her family as anyone. They would follow her around the house all day, and the little one would often ride along on errands with her.
She always was such a classy dresser. She wore bright colors that showed off her dark complexion and she always had her hair and nails done. She had what seemed like millions of different pairs of shoes to coordinate with all of her outfits. Again, no detail was overlooked. In fact, after she died and I was cleaning out her drawers, I was amazed that her drawers were organized by color! It was when she began to put less effort into her daily wardrobe that I realized my friend was really sick.
As wonderful as she was to everyone around her, she did not feel the same way about herself. She never felt good enough. No amount of praise could penetrate the level of disapproval she felt for herself. She constantly tried to ease her hurt with all of the wrong things. She knew it wasn't good for her, but it was what she had. The people who loved her tried everything to help her. Everything. I always hoped that one day I would say something in a way that would really click inside her, and she would be okay. I guess I never did find the right words.
I watched my beautiful, vivacious friend slowly poison herself. This fiercely independent spitfire, became a decrepit and home bound woman, who relied on paid around the clock care. Up until her dying day, I was convinced she would come out of it. If anyone could turn it around, I believed she could. She had been given so many second chances before. I guess we all took for granted the fact that they would one day run out.
The day she died, she didn't open her eyes at all, but she responded to what was being said by smiling and different facial movements. I sat by her side almost the whole day. I talked about funny things that had happened and how silly my kids were. I told her how much I loved her and how sorry I was that I wasn't always the friend to her that I should've been. I held her tiny, little hand and I brushed her hair out of her eyes. When she seemed uncomfortable, I tracked down a nurse to ease her suffering. Maybe I somehow thought that if I was diligent enough, something would change. Maybe I was just so scared about losing her that I couldn't stay still or be quiet. Maybe I was so worried that she was frightened that I wanted her to know that there were people around who loved her and were looking after her.
I was not there the moment she died, but many people who loved her were. She died peacefully and gracefully. And with her dogs.
I miss my friend. In a few months, she will have been dead two years. That thought takes my breath away. How can anyone so full of life, be no longer here? How does that happen? How is that fair?
In the time since her death, I have called on her often. I have heard her voice and seen her smile in my mind a million times. For that, I am so extremely grateful. I hope that I never stop missing her. I don't want to become complacent in my sadness of her passing. She needs to be remembered and talked about. Her good qualities need to go on in the people who loved her, and her illness needs to be etched in our hearts and mind forever. It is crucial we never forget how she suffered, so that we too, will not follow that path. That is what she would want for us. I do know this.
I believe she is looking down on me. I know she can hear everything I am saying now, and she doesn't want me to be sad. I am confident that if she could call me right now, she would try to lift my spirits with some slightly off-color humor and the promise of a lunch out together soon. The thought instantly makes me smile, but also breaks my heart.
Oh, how I miss my friend.

All in the Family

My mother had 3 kids in 3 1/2 years. The thought of putting my body through that, sends it into shock. But that was how we grew up; like stair steps. (until my brother outgrew my sister, which happened pretty early on) Despite the unavoidable sibling bickering, we still managed to play together those early years. My sister Beth tells the story of how we used to play Star Wars. She, of course, was Princess Leia, Bryan acted as Hans Solo, and I played the role of "baby storm trooper." Then of course there are the memories of "baptizing" our dolls in the bathroom sink. What Catholic child does not share in this? And who could forget the ten plus hour drives to and from Pennsylvania in the back of the station wagon.? The three of us would cram in like sardines; constantly shifting in the hopes that somehow a comfortable position would possibly be found.
Fast forward.
My sister has two beautiful little girls. They are both special and unique, yet both have unmistakable likenesses to my sister. I had the pleasure of having her girls stay with me for a week this summer. At times, as I looked into one of her daughters' eyes or listened as they spoke, I felt like I was being pulled back 25 years to the days of those cramped back seats. I saw things in her girls that I didn't remember I knew, and wouldn't have expected to be refamiliarized with. As different as my nieces are from my sister, as well as each other, the commonalities they share are incredible.
It really is an amazing thing, that our children carry with them so much of us. They are literally pieces of who we are. Their children will be pieces of them. For better or for worse, we do go on.
As I look back on the hundreds of pictures I took of my 4 children as well as my sister's two, I see two parrallel childhoods; the one I shared with my siblings, and the one our children will share together. The gift of family truly transcends the here and now. Family, no matter how often you are with them, how readily you accept them, or how strong the bond, is always within you. The thought, really should inspire us all to be the type of family that anyone would chose.