Six months after leaving home my sons are closer than ever. At ages 7 and 9 they have no sense of personal space or boundaries with each other. They are each others limbs and whether tumbling in the grass or playing in the pool or now, hovered over my iphone, a tangle of arms and legs in an airport lounge, they are blissfully unaware that they are anything less than the combination of each other.
Every day we are together on this trip the truth of how intimately connected their lives on this planet will always be becomes clear. They are the most beautiful mix of their parents’ love and eyelashes and finger nails and perspectives. They have inside jokes that no one will ever understand more than each other. For now they hold conversations between themselves that cause us adults to take pause and shake our head. In a few years those conversations will become whispers behind closed doors, locking us out and making their bond even closer. They will be each others best historian and, I hope, each others most reliable ally.
They finish each others sentences and know exactly which buttons to push to get the other happy, upset or giggling.
I know there will come a day when they push each other a little further away. I recognize they will need to assert their individuality and be their own people. But that day is not today.
Nope, today they are each others BFF and momentary nemesis and BFF again. And they are ours. Unbelievably, undeniably ours. We are so incredibly lucky.