I’m sitting in my sister and brother-in-law’s vacation home, which was graciously loaned to me due to my lack of funds for a more extravagant holiday. This suits me just fine, as I’ve always loved this place. It’s calm, relaxing, and remote. And my sister has amazing taste. She really should have been an interior designer. Everything in this house belongs here, and makes it a home. If it had internet access and reliable cell phone coverage I’d probably never leave.
I wander around, looking at photographs of people my sister loves who I barely know, birthdates of people I’ve never even heard of on calendars, and souvenirs of trips she’s taken that I know nothing about, and I realize that although we both spring from the same foundations, so to speak, the structures that we have built of our lives are so different as to be barely recognizable to each other.
And yet we still have the same body language, the same reference points, and for the most part we seem to get each other. And no matter what, we’ll be there for each other. No doubt about it. And that’s more precious than gold.
The fascinating thing about siblings is that you wade in the same gene pool, but what you do with those genes yields vastly different results. That becomes more and more evident as your paths diverge over time.
I look at this house and wonder if this type of abundance could have been mine if only I had made different choices and fewer stupid mistakes in life. I try really hard not to look at my sister as a reflection of what might have been, though, because aside from some aches and pains that I don’t envy at all, her life seems vastly superior to my own, and I don’t want to turn into a bitter old shrew.
There are things I wouldn’t trade for the world, though. My travels, my dogs, this blog, my art, and the people I love. All of those are priceless. So I’ll do my best to relax in this beautiful house, appreciate the fact that I have a sister who is generous enough to share it with me, revel in this moment, and do my best to focus on my own path.
Not the cabin in question for privacy’s sake, but a similar ambiance.
The View from a Drawbridge 
My Sister often tells me that she thinks we lived different childhoods. We remember things so differently. I think it depends on personal outlooks on life. Our lives are like yours but reversed. She at 72 is still working and juggling. The cards we are dealt in life, and how we play them are usually beyond our control in the grand scheme of life. Although, there are other siblings, we are closest in our twilight years. My respect and love for her is unlimited.
When all is said and done, that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?
Bot hmy siblings have their own families now, bought homes, kids. I’ve taken a different path and I won’t have the tangible things to show for a life when we are near the end of it. Everyone is happy with the path they took which is the most important thing. Things I would have done differently if I could have but you don’t look back when there is so much ahead to discover.
I agree. One should avoid measuring one life against another because then the question ought to be, “Who devised the ruler?”
This is particularly true if you are adopted… like me… and my older brother… Four boys, grew up in the same house… nothing alike at all.
That’s got to add a whole new dynamic to the situation.
I think it does.
Well you turned out to be an intelligent and creative individual, so it all worked out in the end.
Oh… they tried to mess me up…
How boring if they hadn’t.
Oh… thanks…