When I was in Afghanistan, as a Peace Corps Volunteer 40 years ago, it was a common sight to see older children carrying younger children on their hip, minding the younger siblings all day long.
That's not common here, but today my 15-year-old worked with his ten-year-old sister, as he has been for a while now, teaching her how to play soccer.
Today, five of her teammates showed up for "soccer camp," as well, and he showed them basic moves.
A big chunk of our extended Weir Clan is gathering this fall, based at my house. Two of my grandchildren and their parents arrived last night. One's talking in full sentences at age two and a half, and the other is just getting acclimated -- he's at the beginning of it all.
One shoots baskets and hits baseballs, and one watches quietly. Everybody loves the outdoors and sports in this family.
The little boys are so beautiful, perfect, and lovely to hold.
A nice distraction from other realities, in my business realm, which frankly suck at the moment. A bad year this week turned much, much worse.
Now, family is the antidote.
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