My childhood may not have been perfect, but it was complete thanks to my big brothers Wil, Reuel, and Dennis, who are 12, 10, and 8 years older than me. They were much more than siblings and are the greatest gifts my parents ever gave me. Through their actions, they taught me what it means to love, laugh, and live.

Wil, the eldest among us, introduced me to the world of stories. I remember following each word he read to me during our daily library visits after school in kindergarten. This ritual not only taught me how to read but also ignited a lifelong passion for books—a foundation upon which much of my later life would be built.

Reuel, the heart and glue of our family, instilled laughter and cultural richness into my young life. From handing me my first book—a well-thumbed copy of Stuart Little—to sharing his love of films and music, he was the one who gave me my first taste of the world beyond home. His gifts went beyond the tangible; he instilled in me the street smarts and humor that have shaped much of my personality.

Then there was Dennis, the artist and dreamer whose sensitivity was matched only by his open-mindedness. We became closer in my teenage years, and he taught me introspection and the art of self-reflection. It was through his influence that planted the seeds of writing, which grew to be a creative outlet that I find so much joy in.

Each brother, in his unique way, contributed to who I am today. They were my mentors and rocks, offering protection and the freedom to grow and explore who I was meant to be. Through their examples, they showed me that good men exist and that they can be strong, kind, and wise.

Now, as a mother of two boys, I carry with me the lessons learned from these three remarkable men—my guides, my best friends, my unspoken heroes, and that my boys grow up to be as close and amazing as they are.

I hope my boys never feel alone because they will always have each other.