Three Girls

Granddaughters: L-R: Lexi, Des, Hannah

Hannah will turn two this December. Lexi began kindergarten this year and Destiny (my little Mattie) will be three next month. We now have a fourth girl, Abigail (Abby) who will turn one in another month. All four girls are close enough in age to be playmates and buddies. You can tell how much they love each other. Always, always doing something for the other, sharing and caring, it’s wonderful to see. Not that they always get along, I understand there was an incident with a baby doll blanket the other day but for the most part the girls are good friends & cousins to each other.

Being cousins brings responsibility though: one cousin to another cousin. I remember how much all of ‘us cousins’ meant to each other and how we had this incredibly loving and special bond even though most of us lived miles apart. Today nothing has changed. The bond remains. I’d drop what I was doing if one of them called and rush, rush, rush to where they were. I suppose it’s a family thing that I grew up with. A sort of family code we Irish are willing to follow through thick and thin even if the other cousin doesn’t deserve it but all of us are more than willing to abide by the code and give it. I think these girls will do the same. Even if over time miles may separate them and life’s choices make them different in some way I think the closeness learned today will spill over into their future. Thank goodness for large families who bond together in that special way that says: “Don’t worry, Sug, I’ve got your back and I’ll love you anyway, even if I think you’re a complete moron for doing that thing you did. Heck I’ll even set in jail with ya if need be. So, no worries, I’ve got your back!”

One of  my cousins and I could get into so much trouble even the cows would notice. Once we decided Halloween was not fun until all of the six horse troughs were turned on their sides. So with she on one horse and me on another we tied a rope to each saddle horn and stretched it between us, loose enough to tip the troughs one by one. Once we thought syrup on the steps was the way to get even with my cousin’s brother Harold and slicked down the steps. Then my uncle slipped . . . and . . . do I even need to tell you what happened that time. We were a mess! At least this is what my Mama called us “a mess” but I’m sure she meant it in a non-complementary fashion as we could do more mischief than ten boys on any given day.

I wonder what these four little girls will do over time. They do live in the country and you know what they say about country girls. Wide open and full of it!

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