Five Sisters, Two Daughters

The story is complicated — woven with threads of joy, frustration, and moments steeped in love. Feeling so lucky, so blessed… followed by the undeniable urge to throw a fit.

Five sisters, two daughters.

The weekend was full — dancing, celebrating, eating, laughing, crying, eye-rolling — all the things you’d expect from a gathering of Italian women.

At one point, I found myself deep in conversation with my own heart — reminding myself to watch my tongue, to remember the weight that words carry, to not take things so personally.

Easier said than done.

Every one of these women holds lifetimes in her back pocket, some with enough stories to fill several lives within a single lifetime.

Driving down the winding dirt road, surrounded by the golden shimmer of changing aspens, my cousin and I spoke of the preciousness of it all — the fleetingness of time together, the awareness that these moments, like those leaves clinging to the trees, will not last forever.

On my way home I carried a few aches in my heart - a gentle reminder that love and hurt often travel together.

Did I feel loved, cherished, and appreciated? Yes.

Would I take back the time? Never.

It’s complicated. It’s life. It’s love.It’s our story.

Five sisters, two daughters