Blood Brothers

As a kid there were a handful of times that I cut my palm and smushed it against a friend’s matching wound to seal our alliance. Only the coolest, most trusted buddies became my blood brothers this way. Then the Eighties brought aids to light and my sanguinary relationship building came to a halt.

I had all but forgotten about that ritual until the other day when a blogger I know only through our various online relationships made an extraordinary promise to me. She pledged to make a modern-day blood sacrifice that will be added to my own personal sacrifices to accomplish something that will be life-changing.

We are blog sisters, friends, mothers, advocates, and educators walking down the same road of life together. Her son and my youngest daughter brought us together in this exclusive, invitation-only club. She knows certain private details of my life that are written on my heart because she has read them off her own. She recognizes my pain, and feels my pride. She dreams my dreams and wakes from my nightmares.

One simple genetic hiccup has given me a new sister, and she is worthy of a bloody high-five.