Today, as we entered the gates to the park, I went off in one direction to sit on the blanket and the boys another, to play on the equipment. As they walked off together, Max slipped his hand into Finns. This small gesture, completely natural and unprovoked, stirred something in me and it felt as if my heart was going to burst right there.
A relationship between siblings is unique to any other. Stronger than friendship, bound through blood, it is one which lasts a lifetime and holds the key to our past, the strongest link to a shared history.
As they played, I watched on and every now and again they'd lose each other and come to me asking where the other is. Even at such a young age, they are a comfort to each other which brings me peace knowing they will always have a non-parental force in their life, each watching over the other.
As they grow, they will share secrets, games, friends, and what we'll do our absolute best to be a very happy childhood. As long as they have each other, these boys will be just fine.