My siblings and I gathered on the couch watching Spongebob make krabby patties and waiting for my mom to finish making us pancakes. Syrup dripping down two thin pancakes, sticking to the fork, to my fingers and my face, those Sunday mornings were my paradise. Sunday mornings were usually cold in the warmest way, with all the windows open to the California breeze because my mom loved to open all the windows in our house as soon as she woke up. As a 10-year-old, those Sunday mornings were a sacred, an unspoken tradition between my siblings and I. I don’t think we even realized how alive Sunday mornings made us feel and how they became a memory that feels so safe to me. Everything about those Sunday mornings sticks to my soul as persistently as the syrup on my face. The lazy smiles as we curled next to each other watching cartoons, the occasional battles over the remote control, but mostly how we all felt like this is what life will be like forever, and that’s all that mattered. We were fascinated by the most infinitesimal things like how orange juice tasted sour in our mouths after we brushed our teeth and how the whole neighborhood smelled like fresh lawns every Sunday morning.
There was serenity and sanctuary in those few hours and a place I could only venture to with my siblings that made it special. It’s bittersweet how growing up can bring so many opportunities in our lives, but make us so focused on the big picture and the big moments that we forget it was the tiny moments that made us who we are. It was the sounds, the smells, the voices we heard on Sunday mornings that made me appreciate how significant my life is because I get to share it with three younger siblings. In those moments, I learned how much syrup they like on their pancakes and if they liked milk or orange juice with breakfast. Their lives were my life from the moment we woke up until the moment we went to bed. Whether our Sundays were sharing chores, riding our bikes in the blazing heat of Sacramento or eating a billion popsicles to escape the heat, we did it all together. We shared every fort we built and fought over every last bite of candy our mother bought us at the grocery store. We used each other as pillows on long drives and picked on each other for everything possible.
I think all of those small events, those moments are the reason my siblings are the most important world to me today. They helped create the early stages of my perspective and they were my pure foundation for the person I am today. They have been my shadow and my mirror, but as we all grow up, they have become my inspiration. They are intelligent, kind and humble human beings who have so much power and an abundance of beauty to offer to this world. I know the world will not always be kind and people will not always be beautiful, but I know my siblings always will be and leave a significant mark wherever they go.
