In-Laws: The Syrup in the Marriage

"Honor your father-in-law and your mother-in-law, since from now on they are as much your parents as those who gave you birth." Tobit 10:12

When we marry our Prince Charming (or princess in case there are any males following my blog), we inherit the King, the Queen and the whole court. This is true in every society but especially with Hispanics. We all have a version of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" within our families. I tell my kids that before they fall head over heels in love, to make sure that they can also fall in love with his or her family because if they end up at the altar, they will be marrying the whole family. The in-laws can be like syrup. A little syrup enhances the flavor but too much can be nauseating.

We have all grown up hearing jokes about the in-laws, especially "la suegra" (the mother-in-law). And this is nothing new, it probably goes back to the end of time. I grew up in Cuba in the 60s, and I remember a TV program on Thursday nights called "Casos y Cosas de Casa" (Happenings and Occurrences at Home). I was little so I don't remember all the details but I do remember there was a mother-in-law named Tecla and there was something always going on with her. Then I moved to Spain and one of the most popular TV programs in the 70s was "Embrujada" (Bewitched), and once again, there was the mother-in-law always sticking her nose where she shouldn't. And when I moved to the US in 1974, my favorite program was "Que Pasa USA" and once again, one of the funniest characters was Adela, the grandmother and "suegra" to Pepe Peña who always managed to get on his nerves.

Therefore, it is inevitable that we all carry an inner fear of our future mother-in-law. Women fear the battle for their husband's attention and men fear the meddling of their wife's mother in their life. As an only daughter, I think it was especially hard for me to cut the umbilical cord both from my mom and my grandma. I was only 21 years old when I got married and I admit it, I was pretty spoiled. If it was up to me, I would have allowed both my mom and my grandma to interfere in my marriage more than my hubby would have liked. My parents owned two houses in a duplex lot. They lived in one and rented the other one. They offered us the smaller house so we could save money to eventually buy our own. I would have happily taken them up on their offer but we had just attended a weekend retreat called "Camino" to prepare us for marriage, and one of the things we heard over and over was that it was best to live alone and far away from the in-laws, especially at the beginning of the marriage. So we took their advice and rented an apartment instead. Later on, when we started looking for a house to buy, Rafael's aunt who owned the house where my mother-in-law lived, offered to sell us the house. It was the same set-up that my parents had, two houses in a duplex lot. My mother-in-law was very excited with the idea. She said that she would move to the smaller house on the back and we could live in the bigger house that she was occupying at the time. But once again, we remembered the advice we had gotten two years earlier at "Camino" and we decided to buy a new home about ten miles away from both of our families. Whether that was a good decision or not, we will never know. But when some close friends that got married just three weeks after us got divorced just two years into their marriage, we felt we had done the right thing. They began their married life living with her mother and the struggles between mother-in-law and son-in-law played a huge part in their divorce.

I learned to be a wife and mother with just a little bit of meddling from my mom and grandma, and I never had to fight my mother-in-law for my husband's attention. He paid plenty of attention to both of us and neither one of us was jealous of the other. My mother-in-law managed to find the right amount of syrup to pour in our marriage without becoming sickly sweet. She was available when we needed her but she never pushed her presence upon us. And the best part was that whenever there was a conflict, she sided with me. I think that was the secret to us getting along so great. She knew that the one she needed to win over was me, her son would always love her. I will definitely use her as the guideline to follow when my turn comes to become a mother-in-law. Hopefully, just like her, I can find the perfect recipe to become the right amount of syrup in my kids' marriage.

Time in a Capsule

Is it me or does time just seems to fly faster and faster? The older I get, the faster it seems to fly. And yet, a year still has 365 days (or 1 more on leap years) and each day still has 24 hours. But when I was much younger, I remember that from Christmas to Christmas, it seemed to take forever, and now, every year, when it's time to take out the Christmas ornaments, I feel like I just finished putting them away. I read somewhere that when we are kids, we feel like we have our entire lives ahead of us so time just seems eternal. But as we get older, we begin to realize that our time left may be less than our time lived, and thus time just seems to fly away. And here we are, with half of 2016 already gone.

I began the year inspired to write about relationships. It has been a very difficult topic for me and thus, I've only written 14 meditations in six months, which would be fine except when I look back at 2015 and realize that last year, I wrote a total of 109 meditations. This year has been tough in more ways than one: I lost my dad, I had some family issues and some health issues. My level of anxiety peaked around March and it affected every aspect of my life, including my writing. Writing for me is usually therapeutic but this year, it became a burden more than a relief, so I've been putting it off.

I've been reflecting these past two weeks on whether to continue on the topic of relationships or change course altogether. But the more I think about it, the more I feel I need to keep on trotting without altering direction. Yes, it's difficult to write about relationships because they can be so complicated, but we are all in the same boat. Some of us are having issues with spouses, kids, parents, siblings, in-laws, friends, co-workers... So it's good and necessary to vent. What has made it harder for me to write about this topic is that I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings so I have to be very careful how I express what I feel. But at the same time, I have to be honest. So I need to find the fine line between sugar coating the truth but not distorting it. And I have realized that is not an easy task.

But I'll continue on this path while praying that I can do it lovingly but truthfully. I have already talked about relationships with our parents, grandparents, siblings, extended families and spouses. I would like to dedicate the second half of this year to in-laws, children, grandchildren (which I don't have any so I will have to rely on those that are already enjoying this stage of their lives), friends, co-workers, enemies... And wherever else the spirit moves me.

I'm not going to put myself any pressure because whenever I do this I end up doing less than planned. All I can say is that I hope to write more meditations in the second half of this year than I did in the first. God help me. And maybe I can discover how to put time in a capsule so it lasts a little longer.

Tributo a mi Papá

Primeramente quiero darle las gracias a todos, de parte de mi mamá, de mi esposo, mis hijos y de parte mía por estar presente en este día con nosotros. La cantidad de personas que fueron anoche a la funeraria, que han llamado, y que nos han enviado mensajes es un testamento al hombre que fue mi papá. Los que lo conocían bien, saben que él era un hombre de un gran corazón. Era amable, bondadoso y honrado. Él amaba sin límites y era un hombre de grandes valores y convicciones. Cuando nos fuimos de Cuba, él decidió que hasta que Cuba fuese libre él no iba a comer carne los viernes en sacrificio por los cubanos que quedaron atrás. Jamás volvió a comer carne los viernes y desafortunadamente se marchó sin ver su sueño de una Cuba libre hecho realidad. Mi papá era un hombre de una paciencia infinita. Tenía tanta paciencia que los que no hemos sido dotados de esa virtud, perdíamos la paciencia con él. Recuerdo cuando yo era jovencita, si yo tenía una fiesta por ejemplo a las 8, yo le decía que la fiesta era a las 7 para poder llegar a tiempo. Cuando salíamos de la casa, chequeaba todas las puertas 2 y 3 veces. Al parquear, le daba dos vueltas al carro para asegurarse que todas las puertas y ventanas estaban bien cerradas. Mi mamá le decía que si un ladrón andaba cerca se iba a pensar que tenía un tesoro dentro del carro y con más razón iba a forzar la puerta. Pero así era mi papá, no se inmutaba por nada. Y en este mundo que todos siempre estamos corriendo, podemos aprender mucho de él. El mundo podía ir de prisa, pero mi papá iba a su paso sin que nadie ni nada le agitase.

Mi papá no tenía vicios. No fumaba, no tomaba alcohol, no jugaba... El único vicio que yo le conocí fue mi mamá. Mi mamá era el centro de su universo. Simplemente, la adoraba. En estos días he oído muchos testimonios sobre ese amor. Uno de ellos me lo dio Magaly, una de las compañeras de playa de mi mamá que me contaba sobre un crucero que habían ido juntos, todas las ¨muchachitas¨ de la playa (como él se refería a ellas) y mi papá. El solo acompañado de nueve damas. En ese crucero, mi mamá se sentó en el casino a jugarse unas monedas y él se sentó al lado de ella a cuidarla. Y no me extraña pues él la cuidaba como si fuera una piedra preciosa, pues para él, ella lo era. Estos últimos tres años fueron muy duros para él. Ya perdí la cuenta de cuantas veces estuvo en el hospital. Hace tres años estuvo a punto de perder una pierna, y cuando se lo dijimos lo primero que dijo fue ¨lo siento por tu mamá.¨ El pensaba en ella antes de pensar en él mismo. Su gran preocupación era no convertirse en una carga para mi mamá. En una de las muchas intervenciones quirúrgicas que tuvo, cuando despertó de la anestesia, medio confundido, empezó a mirar sus alrededores con la vista y cuando vio a mi mamá, su cara se iluminó con una gran sonrisa. Ella le preguntó, por qué estás tan sonriente, y él le contestó, porque tenía miedo de que tal vez no iba a volver a verte. El lucho con todas sus fuerzas contra el Cancer que le diagnosticaron hace dos años, contra la diabetis que lo iba consumiendo poco a poco y contra todos los achaques que le fueron cayendo uno tras otro. Mi esposo Rafael decía que mi papá tenía más vidas que un gato pues en varias ocasiones pensamos que se nos iba, pero yo estoy convencida que la razón de su existencia era lo que lo mantenía en pie, pues el mayor miedo de él era dejar sola a mi mamá. Pero papi, no te preocupes. Mami nos tiene a nosotros y mucha gente que la quiere, así que sola nunca va a estar. Aparte, no me queda la menor duda de que él la va a seguir cuidando desde el cielo.

Mi papá aparte de ser un gran esposo fue un padre excepcional. Era súper estricto pero encontró el balance perfecto entre la disciplina y el amor. Jamás me puso una mano encima y nunca me gritó, pero cuando me castigaba, el castigo no me lo quitaba nadie. Si me castigaba por una semana, no importaba si me invitaban al evento del año. Me podía llegar una invitación para el cumpleaños de las princesas de España, y no hubiese podido ir. El era firme en su palabra y no había quien lo convenciera de que me cortase el castigo antes de tiempo. Pero yo hoy soy lo que soy gracias a esta mezcla de amor y disciplina. Aunque era estricto, nunca dudé de su amor hacia mí. Yo sé que él me adoraba y estaba súper orgulloso de mi. Y muchas personas me lo han dicho en estos días. Recuerdo una noche que yo no podía dormir pues tenía un examen muy difícil de Contabilidad la mañana siguiente. Alrededor de las 2 de la mañana me levanté y fui a la cocina a tomar agua. Cuando vi la hora, rompí a llorar pues pensé que si no lograba descansar, iba a suspender el examen. Regresé a mi cuarto y me volví a acostar. Él debió haberme oído pues vino a mi cuarto y me preguntó qué me pasaba. Yo le dije que iba a suspender el examen. Él me tomó la mano y aunque no recuerdo sus palabras exactas, lo que me dijo me llenó de paz, me quedé dormida y cogí una A en el examen. Él me enseñó a dar lo mejor de mí misma, a poner el máximo esfuerzo en mis estudios y en todas mis cosas, a amar al prójimo por encima de a mí misma y marcó el patrón a seguir para yo saber cómo educar a mis hijos, esos tres nietos que él adoraba. Ellos son la prueba de que su sacrificio no fue en vano. El dejar patria y familia sin saber lo que nos esperaba al otro lado del mar, y después volver a cruzar mar para comenzar de nuevo en los Estados Unidos, valió la pena. Tuvo la recompensa de ver a dos nietos graduarse de Belén, el mismo colegio en que él estudió en Cuba. Pudo ir a la graduación de la universidad de los dos mayores y que orgullo sintió de verlos recibir sus diplomas. Y aunque no va a poder estar presente en la graduación del más pequeño, sé que lo estará en espíritu. 

Él era un hombre muy familiar que le encantaba reunirse con la familia. Siempre me decía que yo había escogido un gran esposo pues quería mucho a Rafael y sé que Rafael lo quería y lo admiraba a él. Ayer fuimos todos a almorzar con mi mamá y después Rafael me dijo, como extrañé a tu papá en el almuerzo. Pero yo sé que él estaba allí presente en espíritu y sé que él seguirá viviendo en el corazón de todos los que le conocieron pues él se daba a querer. Siempre fue un gran amigo, un gran esposo, un gran abuelo, un gran suegro, un gran padre y un hombre de mucha fe y grandes valores. Te quiero papi y sé que te voy a extrañar todos los días, pero sé que ya estás en el cielo donde hay una gran celebración por tu llegada. Y no te preocupes por mami, que la cuidaremos con el mismo amor que tú la cuidabas. Y sé que nos estarás esperando en el cielo y un día volveremos a bailar juntos entre las nubes.

I Choose You

"I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

My very first favorite movie was "Sleeping Beauty." I watched it for the first time in a Cuban theater, which was a rare treat in 1960s Cuba. I absolutely felt in love with Aurora, the three fairy godmothers and most importantly, the prince that came to rescue the sleeping princess. I have been a romantic at heart since I was a little girl. Even to this day, I'm a sucker for Hallmark movies, and I can spend hours reading romantic novels.

The first time that I thought I was in love, I was just eleven-years-old. I loved him with all the passion of my pre-teen heart. I thought it was very serious, until I met a cuter boy at 12. And then, I kept a very long log of all the boys that I liked, an average of one every three months. When I turned 16, I had my first serious crush which lasted about two years. It ended with a broken heart, but it opened the door for someone much better.

I met my husband when I was 18. At the time, I was still pining for my lost love so I didn't pay much attention to him. We became good friends before Cupid hit us with his arrow. By this time, I had decided that I was wasting my time waiting for my ex-boyfriend to return. And I made the conscious decision that my next love was going to be my choice. I set the bar high: tall and good looking was first on my list; he had to have an education or be in the process of getting one; he had to be Catholic and preferably practicing; a large family was a plus, since mine was so small; he had to be outgoing, a good dancer and smart. He also had to be a gentleman, generous, honest, thoughtful, sensitive and a good friend. And with this list, I set out to find the perfect potential husband, not realizing that he was right in front of my nose.

My eyes were opened during a Valentine's dance we attended in 1981. I was talking to some friends when I heard, "there's Fifo." I turned around and for the first time I saw him on a whole different light. I had gotten used to seeing him with glasses but that night, for the first time, he was wearing contacts. I thought to myself, "he's pretty handsome." I guess he noticed me too beyond the friendship because a few days later he asked me out on a date. In May, I asked him to my prom and the rest is history. We married three years later and this month we are celebrating our 32nd wedding anniversary.


I have been thinking a lot about our wedding lately, probably because we have attended three weddings in the last month. I always feel that weddings are magical. There’s such joy, excitement, and anticipation with weddings. The brides are beautiful, and the grooms are nervous and excited. It’s a gathering of family and friends for a celebration of love and life. I always tear up at weddings; I simply can’t help it. That is why I just can't wear mascara.

When we got married we had a pretty tight budget. One of my biggest regrets is not splurging on a video. Now we have to rely on our memories and the pictures to remember our big day. But it's engraved in my mind like a movie playing over and over again. It was truly a celebration of love, friendship and life. All our friends and family were there, a whooping 300 guests. The invitation was only for the church ceremony. It didn't mention a reception because we simply couldn't afford it. In the end, we decided to offer hors d'oeuvres after the ceremony. So when the mass ended, the guests were invited to proceed to the parish hall. At the time, I was working at a travel agency and the owner gave us some cases of wine as a gift. I'm not sure how the wine multiplied to satisfy all the guests. It was either a repeat of the miracle at Cana or the fact that the wine tasted like mouthwash so after trying it, nobody went for seconds. But in spite of our very tight budget, our pictures are testimony of the joy we felt that day and of how much fun we had celebrating with the people that we loved the most. There was little food but a lot of partying and dancing. And I thank God every day that we are still walking together on this journey called marriage.

I could say that I married my soul mate but I don't believe that there is a soul mate out there for everyone. I believe that finding the right mate is a conscious choice that each person has to make. We can choose to believe in Disney fairy tales all our lives or we can choose to find the person that compliments us the best. Rafael doesn't meet every quality that I wrote on my list but he has the qualities that truly matter: he is honest, sensitive, generous and a gentleman (once in a while). And I definitely married my best friend. He is the first person I call when I have to share good news or bad news. He is the one that holds my hand when I'm sad and hugs me when I cry.

Marriage is not a 50/50 partnership. Marriage is a 100/100 compromise. Each person has to give 100% or it will fail. It took us a while to realize that. Until we did, our marriage was pretty rocky because it was a competition. We always felt that we were giving more than the other one. And it became a struggle in our home. "You are not doing enough..." was a daily litany. When we finally realized that our marriage was an equal partnership and that we each had to give it our all, we began to live in harmony. And even in this harmony, once in a while we are out of tune with each other. We've had our share of issues and plenty of fights. But when we said our vows on June 29, 1984, we meant them for life. We knew that we were entering into a sacrament with God and with each other. So it will take a lot more than a discordant note in our path to break us apart.

So even though I still enjoy watching Disney and Hallmark movies, I know deep inside that love is more than a fairy tale. Every day, I choose to love my husband with all his qualities and flaws. I chose him 32 years ago and if I had to do it all over again, I would choose him again.

"I choose you to love and to hold today and forever." Music & Lyrics by Dante Bantatua

Extended Families: The Frosting on the Cake

This past weekend we attended a wedding. I absolutely love weddings: the gathering of friends and family to celebrate such a joyful occasion. Both the bride and the groom have large families with nine aunts and uncles, and plenty of cousins to fill the entire ballroom. I managed to dance shoulder to shoulder for a while, but after someone almost opened a hole on my foot with a very sharp and skinny heel, I just had to sit down for a while. It was nice to witness the camaraderie between cousins, between grandparents and grandkids, between the parents and their siblings... Everyone was dancing together and just having the best time in the world. It was a big fat Cuban wedding and I loved every minute of it. It was sweeter than the cake itself because after all, extended families are the true frosting on the cake.

As an only child and grandchild, I did not enjoy a house full of siblings or first cousins. But what my parents and I lacked, my grandparents made up with dividends. Each of my four grandparents had plenty of siblings spread out through three different continents. And even though distance and circumstances prevented us from getting together as often as we would have liked, when we got together, it was as if we had seen each other the day before.

One of my abuelo Venancio's brothers lived in Camaguey, a province in Cuba about 300 miles from Havana. It was quite a distance in those days, especially in communist Cuba where moving around was not that simple. I only remember seeing them once in the seven years that I lived there. But this encounter is quite clear in my mind. I was returning from the park with my mom and we heard a lot of noise coming from our house. Our familia from Camaguey had shown up unannounced for a visit. Families do not need an invitation. Even if you have not seen each other in years, you just show up and you are welcome. Three little girls about my age were running from one end of the house to the other. Our home in Havana was long with a set of rooms connected by an outside balcony. The adults were in the living room talking and drinking coffee with my grandparents. I connected with these three little girls as if I had known them all my life. Two of them I only saw that one day. One passed away a few years ago from cancer and the other one still lives in Camaguey. But the third one, my cousin Belkys, won the "lottery" and was able to leave Cuba with her husband and two sons. Over the past fifteen years we have spent many holidays and celebrations together. And since then, Belkys' parents, brother and nephew have made their way to Miami. My extended family in Miami keeps growing by leaps and bounds.

In Spain, my extended family was even larger. I had five great-aunts and uncles on my maternal grandparents side that lived there. I stayed with one of these aunts for eight months after I arrived. It could have been awkward but it wasn't. After all, I had never met them. But she welcomed me into her home and into her heart as if she had always known me. My Tia Maruja reminded me so much of my grandmother that she was a welcome respite in my life. And she spoiled me the same way that my abuela used to spoil me. As sisters, they were cut out from the same fabric. My Tia Maruja and tio Andres had two daughters and a son. They were all in their twenties, just like my mom. And here comes this 7-year-old girl into their house and I became the center of their attention. I realize now how blessed I was. I have friends that do not have happy memories from living with aunts and uncles. Some of them have true horror stories, but that's a topic for another day. It could have turned out bad for me but it didn't. They were truly wonderful to me. My aunt and uncle have since passed away, but my three cousins are still around, all in their 70s with children and grandchildren of their own. I had the opportunity to visit them about 20 years ago with my husband and three children. It was wonderful. I'm long overdue for another visit.

Our extended families are the sweetest frosting on our cake. They provide the finishing touch to our core. Without them, our cake may taste good but something is definitely missing. They bring out the best and the worst in us. Just like frosting, they can be messy but sweet at the same time. Our celebrations would be dull and boring without them. We need the frosting to bring in the color, the flavors and the mess into our lives.

I'm so glad wedding season has just started. I have two more weddings in the next three weeks. I can't wait to witness another sweet and messy frosting of family and friends.

Grandparents: The Bridge to our Past

"Do not cast me off in the time of old age;

do not forsake me when my strength is spent."

Psalm 71:9

Not much is mentioned in the Bible about Jesus' grandparents, but we know that at least on Mary's side, he had a set of grandparents, Joachim and Anne. We have to use our imagination to decide whether they were a big part of Jesus' life or not. I like to think that they were. After all, Mary was their only child (according to the Protoevangelium of James), and Jewish families were very close, so I would think that they probably lived near Joseph and Mary and helped to raise Jesus.

I was very blessed in this department. All four of my grandparents lived well into their 80s. I was already married and a mother myself, when I lost my first grandparent, abuelo Venancio. As far back as I can remember, my grandparents were a huge part of my life. My maternal grandparents lived with us until they passed away, and I also got to spend plenty of time with my paternal grandparents. That is, until I left Cuba and they stayed behind.

Growing up in Cuba, where everything was rationed, must have been difficult, but yet, I didn't notice it. Honestly, I don't remember lacking anything (except maybe cream cheese which I loved and we only got once a year). I remember that "Los Tres Reyes Magos" (the Three Wise Men) that visited my home every January 6th, were quite generous. I recall waking up to lots of toys. Later in life, I found out that my grandparents and parents had to scramble to get me those toys. My abuela Elisa would exchange fabrics for toys. My mother would sleep outside the store overnight so she could get me the doll that would hopefully be for sale the following morning as promised. They would barter and swap services and possessions, just to make sure that I would have the kind of Christmas that they once enjoyed in Cuba.

When I left Cuba, all four of my grandparents remained there. My maternal grandparents joined us two years later. That two year separation was pretty tough for me. My parents were struggling to make ends meet in a new country, so there was no time to spoil me the way my grandparents did back in Cuba. The nuns in the school didn't blend my food into a purée the way my abuela used to do. I had to learn to eat everything. And by everything I mean from "potajes" (stew) to sardines. While all the kids would eat in 30 minutes and play for 90, I would spend the entire two hours staring at my food. I was not allowed to play until I cleaned my plate. It took me a year to train my tastebuds to all these new things that I had never tried before, even though I was already eight years old by this time. However, sardines and I never saw eye to eye. The children that stayed in school to eat, received a "merienda" (snack) in the afternoon. The girls in my classroom would make bets among themselves to see who would get my "merienda" because I never ate it. The "merienda" consisted of either bread and cheese, bread and a bar of chocolate, bread with Nutella, bread with sardines... This last one, nobody wanted it, so I would hide it in the pocket of my coat. One time I took it home on a Friday, my mom forgot to check my pockets, and you can only imagine the smell on Monday morning. Eventually, the nun caught me giving away my "merienda." She punished me by making me stand in the middle of the central patio until I finished the entire "merienda." It didn't matter if it was raining, snowing or freezing cold. Oh, how I missed my abuela Elisa on those days.

Eventually I grew up, learned to eat (even though I still dislike sardines) and my grandparents reunited with us. And they continued to spoil me because that's how they showed how much they loved me. My abuela loved to tell me stories about her family and her life as a young girl in Spain and a young woman in Cuba. I didn't realize it then, but those stories were the bridge to my past. I now recall them with nostalgia. I would give anything to have the opportunity to talk to my grandparents once again. Oh how I wish that I had paid more attention to all those stories. If I had another chance, I would have written everything down. But I know that one day, I will meet them again in heaven and they will recount all those stories from my childhood.

If you have the blessing of still having your grandparents alive, spend time with them, ask them questions and truly listen to their answers. Write down their stories so one day, you can share them with your own children. And thank God every day for the blessing of having this bridge to your past. Love them, hug them and cherish them. That is the best gift you can give them.

St. Joachim and St. Anne, pray for us.

Siblings: The Branches of the Family Tree

"Siblings are like streetlights along the road. They don't make the distance any shorter but they light up the path and make the walk worthwhile." Author Unknown

My friend has a magnet in her refrigerator that says: "Sisters by Chance, Friends by Choice." Every time I read it, I feel happiness and jealousy at the same time. Happiness, because I love the relationship that they have, the friendship, the bond, how they can finish each other's sentences and how they know they have someone that they can count on no matter what. Jealousy because it makes me realize what I'm lacking, what I have been missing and what I have always longed for since I was little.

We don't choose our family nor the size of our family. Some of us are born into very large families and some of us are born into very small families. The siblings we end up with, whether ten, five, one or zero, it's pure chance. Some of us have a mix of brothers and sisters, some end up with just brothers and others end up with just sisters. We don't have a say in the matter, but how we cultivate those relationships is purely our choice. I know siblings that are best friends and I also know siblings that don't even talk to each other.

I landed in a very small family. Neither my father or mother have siblings and I grew up as an "only-child." Yes, I have two half brothers, but I left Cuba when they were just 21 and 4 months respectively, and I did not see them for over 25 years, so in essence, I didn't have any siblings growing up. And how I longed for them. I wanted to have siblings so badly that when I was about 8 years old, I had two imaginary sisters. I called them Ana and Luisa, and they were younger than me. They were the perfect sisters because we never quarreled, and since I was the oldest, I got to boss them around. It's a good thing this took place in the early 70s, otherwise, I would have been dragged to therapy for sure. But in the 60s and 70s, having imaginary siblings, was perfectly acceptable. And I outgrew all my imaginary relationships without any long term consequences. Even though my hubby would probably disagree.

In retrospect, I think it was normal that I longed so much to have a brother or sister because all my close friends came in pairs: Tere & Dulce, Ani & Lily, Lourdes & Leonardo, Ana Mari & M. Luisa, M. Jose & Inmaculada, Jorge & Oqui... No wonder I felt left out. During the day, we all played together, but when it was time to go home, they left in pairs and I had to go home by myself. Oh, how I prayed for a little brother or sister, but my prayers were not answered.

It pains me when I see siblings that don't get along. They don't realize what they are throwing away. A sibling plays a unique role that is irreplaceable. They share something in common, the same parents, which for most is the most precious relationship. And when those parents are gone, the sibling relationship should be the closest relationship, and yet, that is not always the case. In many cases, siblings don't get along because they felt that their parents played favorites. That can cause a lot of resentment among siblings. And it's sad, because at the end of the day, it was the parents' fault and yet, the blame is placed on the favored child, as if he or she had anything to do with it. But many carry this resentment throughout their entire lifetime, thus damaging what should be one of the most sacred relationships.

When siblings truly care about each other, the mutual benefits are tremendous. They can help each other out, they can divide the responsibilities of caring for their aging parents, their children can grow up together and have a special bond as cousins, and it will have a positive impact on their health. I read somewhere that the way a person feels about their siblings has a direct impact on their mood, health, morale, stress, depression, loneliness and satisfaction about life in general. 

I outgrew my need for a sibling, even though once in a while I still feel the longing. But what God didn't give me in siblings, He more than made up in friendships. He also blessed me with a husband that has quite an extended family. And I have witnessed first hand the relationship between siblings through my three children. I've had a front row seat for the past 27 years and I must say that having a sibling is truly a gift and a blessing. 

So if by chance life blessed you with at least one sibling, it is your choice to nurture that bond. If your relationship has fallen apart over the years, put aside your pride and take the first step towards communication. Families are complicated but at the end of the day, they are our greatest gift. Friendships come and go but we are stuck with our families for a lifetime. We are all part of the same family tree. And other than your parent, who else knows you better than your brother or sister?