Adelaide

The littlest moments of your life, no matter how ridiculous or insignificant they seem, are just as important as the biggest moments. These moments are the ones that matter most to me because they are the ones that lead to the biggest ones. They work their incredible magic and make it happen. The little moments make your life brighter – they are the ones that even during the darkest of times can make you feel significantly better.

Never underestimate a small moment and the power it holds.

If it matters to you, then it's worth holding on to.

Be it the lyrics of a song that made you smile, the amount of times you fell before learning how to dirt bike, or a warm September evening you spend watching your parents play a heated game of crib with your younger twin brothers – they mean something.

Which is exactly what I'm doing tonight.

"Mom has got this game in the bag," Jake says, shooting Alex a cocky grin that I've seen more than enough on my dad's face – and my own.

Alex rolls his eyes. "Please, you uncultured swine. Dad is going to win. He always does."

I snort. "Dad never wins against Mom. Sure, he can annihilate the three of us, but he always loses to Mom. It's a scientific fact."

Dad squints at me. "Ye of little faith."

"What?" I shrug. "I'm just telling it like it is."

The three of us turn back to the game of crib that's being played on a Toronto Maple Leafs board, anxiously waiting for the winning hand to be revealed. The wood is old and worn, chipping at the edges. Some people would call it useless and say we need a new crib board for the house, but I would argue against that. I know the story behind the crib board that sits on the table and what importance it holds to my parents.

I lean forward on my elbows, ready to see Mom's hand.

"Sixteen," Mom grins, throwing her game winning hand down. I shoot my brothers an I told you so look and lean over to high-five Mom. Our hands collide with a loud slap.

Alex curses under his breath.

Jake laughs and gives Mom a half-hug.

Dad rolls his eyes and tosses his null hand to the tabletop. "Why do I always end up having the crib at times like these?" he asks, leaning back in his chair. "Swear to God, Mir, you made a deal with the devil at some point."

"Oh, totally," Mom replies sarcastically, reaching over the table and flicking Dad's nose. "You know me so well, Brett."

Dad snags Mom's wrist and jerks her forward until her lips are on his.

"Yuck," Jake says.

"Get a room," Alex moans, covering his eyes.

My heart melts a little as I watch my parents flirt with each other. I know a normal human being would be disgusted, like my cousin, Sophia Clarke, but I find it adorable when my parents express their love for each other. They got married for a reason, right? Let them flaunt it all they want.

I reach for my mug of tea and realize it's empty. "Hey," I say to no one in particular as I get up. "Does anyone else want more tea?"

My twin younger brothers give me looks of disgust, Dad shakes his head and politely declines, and Mom pushes her mahogany mug toward me. "Yes, please," she says.

With two mugs in my hand, dangling from my fingers by the handles, I head for our open-concept kitchen. If I had to choose my favourite area in this house besides the window seat next to the wood fireplace, it would be the kitchen – and not just because I inherited Dad's cooking skills. I love it because it's wide-open and has a tasteful view of our backyard and the lake beyond it. It's also got this farmhouse-style with a hint of modernism that makes it feel homey. With its white cupboards, dark grey soapstone countertops, long island, heated tile flooring, and the big vase of baby's breath and sunflowers that my mom always has on display, the kitchen is the place to be.

From the island, which has a line of chairs along the far side, I grab the mahogany teapot and begin to pour the tea. As I do so, my mind wanders off to tomorrow – the first day of grade twelve. My final year of high school. I'm a freaking senior now. It's hard to believe that next year I'll be attending college.

Though I've been attending West Kelowna Senior Secondary School for the past two years, I'm nervous about tomorrow. I don't know why. I shouldn't be, considering I know a good amount of my fellow peers in my grade, but I am. Maybe it has to do with the fact that my brothers are starting grade ten and I'm no longer going to be able to get away with crap. Maybe it's because, although it's still far away, I don't have a date for grad. Maybe it's the fact I still have no idea what I want to do after I graduate high school.

"Keep pouring that tea and it's going to spill all over the countertop."

I blink and look down at the warm teapot in my hand, quickly pulling it away when I see the looming disaster. "Oops," I say. "Sorry."

Mom rests a hand on my shoulder and smiles at me. "It's okay, Addie." She pauses and tilts her head to the side, studying me. "Is everything okay? You seem a little off tonight."

I sigh and put down the teapot, watching as the tendrils of steam rise up and evaporate into the air. "I'm okay," I reply, playing with the leaf of a sunflower. "Nervous about school tomorrow. I know it sounds stupid." And it really does. Compared to what my mom went through when she was my age, it sounds absolutely ridiculous. It's not like I'm walking into that school with some of my memories missing.

Mom pulls me into a hug, her long black hair tickling my cheek. "Don't say that – it's definitely not stupid. Being nervous is normal for everyone."

I hug my mom back. Her hugs have always been the best. Okay, maybe that's a lie – no one can hug like Aunty Elle, but then again, she's not my mom. I breathe in her apple-scented perfume, feeling some of the anxiety ease from my bones. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"Trust me, Addie," Mom says, pulling back and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Her blue eyes, the exact ones I have, study me. "This is going to be a great year for you and Sophia." The corner of her mouth quirks up. "I know it's going to be hard to put up with Alex and Jake running around the hallways, but you can boss them around. Nothing changes the fact that you're their older sister."

Just like that, I start laughing. "Mom, I would never stop bossing them around. Those two are little buggers."

Mom laughs along with me. "Yes, sometimes I don't know what Brett and I were thinking, having twin boys. But I'm not saying I regret it."

I glance over my shoulder to where Jake, Alex, and Dad are discussing the upcoming hockey season. On top of maintaining the family restaurant, Dad coaches Jake and Alex's hockey team, along with Uncle Hart. I go to a lot of the games, but whether it's to watch my brothers play or watch Dad and Uncle Hart act like teenagers whenever the boys score, I'm not sure.

The three of them burst out laughing, and I watch closely. Jake and Alex, although they're twins, you can easily tell them apart. But that's only because of the hair colour. While Alex has Dad's dirty blond hair, Jake has the same hair as Mom. Besides the one major difference, they're twins, with the same pine-green eyes, strong jawlines and cheekbones, height, and bodybuild. Even their styles are the same. Ripped jeans, muscle shirts, and toques on their heads. 

"I'm glad they're my brothers," I say quietly. "Though they're a major pain in my ass sometimes, I love them almost as much as I love you and Dad."

Mom plants a kiss on my forehead and then grabs her mug of tea. "Everything will be okay, honey – you'll see. Now," she jerks her head toward the table. "Let's go pick an argument about how the Leafs are going to come out on top of the Habs this season."

I laugh. "Are you trying to piss Dad off?"

Mom shrugs, a malicious smile on her face. "Don't tell me I'm the only one who likes seeing them get all defensive."

I shake my head as I grab the remaining mug of tea. "Nope – watching them back each other up is hilarious. I just wish Uncle Hart was here to stoke the embers a little more." I glance at her. "Aren't you happy you're not the only Leafs fan in this house?"

It's Mom's turn to laugh, and when I stop beside her, she says, "Yes, I am happy. I don't know what I'd do if I were surrounded by Habs fans all day. Your dad may have gotten you to love poutine more than butter tarts, but you're my hockey buddy." She pauses. "Hey, why don't we have Hart, Elle, and Sophia over for dinner tomorrow? Sophia could come home with you right after school. Wouldn't that be fun? We could do one final summer feast with hamburgers, potato salad, corn-on-the-cob, and Caesar salad. What do you think?"

I quickly nod my head. "That would be awesome, Mom."

"Okay," she smiles. "I'll give Hart a call tomorrow morning before work and let him know."

With our plans set, I follow Mom back to our seats. As I sit down, the steam from my tea warming my cheeks, I can't help but marvel at the people surrounding me. How could I want anything more than this? I've got parents that love me, brothers that annoy me as best they can even though they love me deep down, two cats that cuddle with me at night, and a roof over my head.

Family is where the love begins and doesn't end.

Family is wherever my crazies are.

Family is where I belong.