Forgiveness is hard. Acceptance is doable.

"I just don't know," I said, my voice sounding bumby, not like mine, "how do you help someone who doesn't want your help. What do you do when you can't do anything?"

I am the middle sister. The one in between. Not oldest, not youngest, not boldest, not nicest. I am the shade of gray, the glass half empty or full, depending on your view. In my life, there has been little that I have done first or better than the one preceding or following me. Of all of us, though, I am the only one who has been broken.

Everything, in the end, comes down to timing. One second, one minute, one hour could make all the difference.

The way I see it," she continued, "is that some things are just meant to be the way they are.

Because maybe, the best of times were yet to come. You never knew.

What is family? They were the people who claimed you. In good, in bad, in parts or in whole, they were the ones who showed up, who stayed there, regardless.