I am grateful.
I have two brothers I love. We get along brilliantly, care deeply for each other, and encourage each other in our successes and failures. One is kind, and somehow never traded in his boyish giggle for a real laugh. He is the kind of man to whom small children and puppies flock. His words are sincere, and his heart is fleshy. He lives far away, but it feels like he lives next door. Always available- that is my Frankie.
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I have a Saturday morning routine. After waking up and having breakfast (oatmeal with fresh cherries and maple syrup these days), I take a moment to think. I think about my day, and how it might be pretty normal. I think of how I will drive to work, cut some hair, and eat a lunch fresh from the microwave. After work I might head to the gym, or give up and go home to comfy pants, a husband and a cuddle bug. We would talk a bit, watch some TV, and... well- you get the picture.
And then, over the same breakfast I think about how for some girls, this Saturday will be anything but mundane.
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