A Brother of Sisters

          I guess I was about 14 the day the last one left home. I was the baby of the family and my three sisters had been my second, third, and forth mothers all my life. Being born into a family of girls is not as hard as it looks. I had a wonderful childhood. I loved and was loved every minute. I guess that's why it was so hard when they all went off to college. I went from being part of a big family to, in effect, an only child. I loved those long weekends and holidays when we would be together just us six; parents, three girls and the baby brother--me. 
         Being a brother of sisters gave me a great advantage in life. I saw my teenage friends looking for acceptance in every form of the female kind. I thought it silly what the boys would do while trying to find a bit encouragement in what fell from the girls’ table. I did not share in all their struggles…the girls I admired the most thought I was the coolest kid in town. My sisters built me up and helped to shape me into the man that now seeks to encourage others. Maybe this is why on the hardest days, the hottest most exhausting days, I think of another day not so difficult... a day when I was seven, watching Karate Kid in my pajamas, and eating Mazzio’s pizza with three amazing sisters laughing at me as I jumped off the couch kicking our invisible bad-guys.  
          Now we live 10,000 miles apart and I have not seen my dear sisters in three years. Phone calls, Skype, and Facebook keep us informed of our very different lives. I wish everyone had sisters like Dorie, Kathy, and Rachel. The world would be a much warmer and better behaved place. There would be less pain and no one would ever be lonely. But everyone doesn't have my sisters. I do. They are one of the greatest blessings in my life.