When I was a young kid, my older brother invented "the gauntlet." It may have been a game for him, but for us it was torture. He would methodically swing a pillow while we tried to pass without getting hit. The problem was, as soon as we took a step, the rhythm stopped, and the swings became purpose-driven. Because he was a lot older, it was impossible to make it through—unless we all charged at the same time. Then, at least one lucky gamer found safe passage. The unlucky ones found themselves soaring in not-so-fun ways. Those were the days!

As we grew, we experienced more conflicts, the kind that builds character and strengthens you. Happily, our "games" were never too serious, and we each left the family home feeling a tight sibling bond.

I am fortunate to have both brothers and sisters. These fine people are some of my best friends, including the pillow swinger, whom I love dearly. We're all over 50 now. Sadly, some of have passed away.

We run a different kind of gauntlet these days—trying to navigate relationships without hurting each other. It's not easy when we see the world differently. We even remember our childhood home differently. Our varying perspectives sometimes send us soaring away from each other for a season. I feel great sorrow when that happens, and even more when I can't figure out how to fix it.

Most of us are together this week, reminiscing in Mom's house, enjoying her home-cooked meals and cookies. Some of my habits annoy her; at 88, she's forgotten what it's like to have all her kids home at once. But she still wants us here and handles it all beautifully.

I read this quote from Meagan Michelson today: "Turns out, our siblings are the easiest people in our lives to love and despise all at once. They are simultaneously irritating, tiresome and impossible to be around, while also being the people on the planet who most closely resemble us." This rings true, though in my case, the love far outweighs any frustration.

Michelson adds something else that resonates deeply: "We know they can't bail on us like everyone else." Yet in today's world, social media voices increasingly suggest it's okay to "cancel" family members over differences. They're wrong. The research is clear: people who maintain relationships with their siblings are less likely to struggle with loneliness, depression, and anxiety. And yes, they're happier too.

My family matters more to me than any other organization in the world. I want them close. I want them to know me. The differences that exist don't matter—I love them unconditionally.

Now, watching our own children creating their own band of siblings, my wife Stacy and I witness a new generation running their own version of "the gauntlet." It reminds me that sometimes the hardest paths lead to the strongest connections. Like that childhood game, life occasionally knocks us down, but we keep getting up and running through it together. That's what siblings do—we may soar in different directions sometimes, but hopefully, we always find our way back home.