I watched from the corner of my eye as our 1-year-old squeezed himself between his brother and a mound of pillows stacked on the couch. Our oldest was having a rough morning and our little guy could see that. I missed snatching a picture of him gently stroking his brother’s hair and giving him a wide, open mouthed kiss. However, I did capture the simplicity of them just being together.

These boys, these brothers. They are 23 months, and 1 day apart. We never planned it that way, God did. In this short time, they already fight like crazy but protect each other fiercely. I hope, and pray each night that they cement an unbreakable bond.

I hope they always share their lives with each other. That they know the other one is there if they need someone to talk to. That they walk next to each other, feeling that presence. Together, side by side.

When they want someone to play with, they yell the other’s name. They might not agree on trucks or superheroes, but they agree playing together is better than alone. Growing up clocking thousands of hours of fun with one another.

I hope when someone calls them a hurtful name, they remember they share the same last one. That it takes nothing more than a silent look and a strong stance, shoulder to shoulder to show this bully, blood is thick.

That when faced with a decision and the wrong one is chosen (because as much as it pains me, it will happen), they remind each other life goes on. Words of encouragement are spoken, repeating that nothing is irreversible. Then they recall the saying which sits on our mantle, “365 days, 365 new chances.” Always being the positive voice in one another’s ear.

I hope when there is an argument, disagreement, or fight—they make up. Nothing should ever come between siblings—nothing. That they hold tight to the truth there is no one else in this world that has shared together what they have. An entire childhood that can’t be duplicated, replicated, or redone with anyone else. They have a forever place in those memories with one another.

That someday when we are gone and they need someone to talk too, someone who knows them best, they think of each other. Hearing a voice on the end of the line that you’ve known nearly your entire life, brings comfort. That it is a reminder distance is only space. Words can instantly bring solace.

I hope they take time to get together. Not just for holidays but instead, just because. That they call each other up for a round of golf or to grab a beer. Then they share memories or swap stories about the adventures life is taking them on. I hope their spouses support their relationship with each other too, and their kids grow up playing with their cousins. Even when childhood stops, their journey together shouldn’t.

I just hope our children know they were the best parts of their parents. Yes, they are different, I already see that. But differences aside, they are also very much the same. Maybe this is just a pipe dream, but I believe with my whole heart it is possible. They will share a history with each other, making memories that will always bring them home. There is so much I want for them in this life, but to never lose each other along the way, that tops the list.

Kayla Friehe

Kayla Friehe is a wife and mother of two young boys. She loves wine, chocolate, and binge watching Netflix-- sometimes all at once. In her spare time she enjoys blogging about motherhood and day dreaming of sleep.