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My brother on my left
And my sister on my right
And beside them,
Thirteen more.
All mine, all my own, my family.
All their own, all each other’s,
All here, even those gone,
But all mine.

Growing with them,
Alone was not an option
(Not one I wanted).
Surrounded by them
Fear was not a thought.
Fear has no place with love
And love is what I always had
With them.

With them,
I was safe.
I was free and life was full,
Full of laughter and joy
(And not so full of tears)
And always that sense of security,
The kind that comes from being loved
(Only times fifteen)
In a family.

In response to prompt number 4 in this weeks edition of Mama Kat’s Pretty Much World Famous Writer’s Workshop.

Mama’s Losin’ It

In case you don’t know that much about me, I’m the youngest of 16 kids.  Yes, you read right.  No, we weren’t adopted.  Yes, we all had the same mom and dad.  Yes, we all know how to read.  Yes, they had a TV.  My father says it was nailed to the ceiling, above their bed.  That’s when my mom usually tells him to stop talking.
I’m calling a Thankful Thursday post because, taking all the good, the bad, and the crazy into account, I’m so thankful for my brothers and sisters and having grown up in a large, loud, loving, laughing family.

Terrible quality and an old picture, but it's the best I can do. Also, this is only my actual siblings, not all of my in-laws, who are just as much a part of my family (and one of whom has been here longer than I have).

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