It’s only fitting that a blog about the love that binds a family together should make its debut on National Sibling Day. In the beginning I was Sharron Dianne Little, daughter of Jack and Ellen. I was no doubt spoiled before my brothers arrived and as is typical of most little girls I desperately wanted a sister with whom I might share my innermost secrets. Of course in the real world we don’t always get what we want and I was blessed instead with two brothers, Michael, the always the calm, rational member of our little family and Pat, a curly headed delight who filled our home with his energy. I mostly ignored my brothers until my father died tragically in a car accident. I was only eight years old and Michael and Pat were five and two respectively when our world was rocked by Daddy’s death. With the loving guidance of our mother we became as close a family as ever there was. Realizing the fragility of life I never took my brothers for granted again nor did I wish them to be any one other than who they were.