22/02/2017 10:49 GMT | Updated 23/02/2018 05:12 GMT

The Safety Of A Sister

I have been absent from life the last two weeks. Hannah Crosby came to town. And so did sleepless nights. Both kept me from writing. And I honestly don't even feel up to writing tonight. Except that I want to honour my sweet sister for sticking in there with me for the time she was here.

She couldn't have come at any better time. Everything about me felt run down when she arrived - body, mind, soul. And she didn't care.

There is a safety that a sister provides.

She didn't mind that I didn't cook her dinner every night. She was happy to eat grilled cheese every night of the week. And sneak in lots of chocolate and snackies and wine after (hence the reason we both put on some weight!).

She didn't mind that Hudson snuck down to wake her up at 5:30am. She woke up and kept me company while the rest of the world slept.

She didn't mind that my house was empty of food when she arrived. She actually went to the store with me and BOUGHT the shopping for the house.

She didn't mind that I freaked out driving to Cardiff in rush hour (stupid choice of travel time), delaying our trip by over an hour. She calmed me down as I hit the wheel and tore out hair.

She didn't mind waiting in the doctor's office for two hours with me. She kept Huck entertained and provided me with someone to talk to.

She didn't mind going to bed at eight pm as I couldn't keep my eyes open for another wink. She washed the dishes from the day as I turned in early.

She didn't mind keeping a screaming baby while Dave and I ventured out for an hour to play pool at a typical Merthyr Pool Hall. She settled him with instrumental Disney music and kept calm the whole time.

She didn't mind eating chips (fries) everywhere we went so that Hudson could snack on her food. She just ordered extra.

She didn't mind that her room smelled of cat.

Or that I had an emotional breakdown after cutting Isaiah's finger while trimming his nails.

Or that I talked about the uncertainty of our future about a gazillion times.

Or walking into town to buy milk just so that I could get out of the house.

Or letting me shower while she had the boys.


(And did I mention how we drank wine and ate together? Because that was possibly the best bit.)

And that is the safety of a sister. I have no doubt that however irritable, irrational, and unpleasant I am, she will love me. She is for me. She will never abandon me. So I can just be me.

Life is messy and unpredictable and boring and monotonous right now. And yet she brought joy to these last two weeks and accepted all of my mess.

The safety of a sister.

I really wish we didn't live this far apart....