We were inseparable. Even when “the baby” arrived it was us against the world. I think we must have referred to her as “the baby” for the first two years of her life. She was an outside entity. She was not part of our world.
We grew up. And then we grew apart. We made different life choices that lead to our current lives. I get a sense that neither of us expected to be where we are today. I sometimes wonder what people think when I tell them I have an older brother. Do they imagine a male version of me? Do William’s friends envision a female version of him? That is probably the case because how else do we judge others except by what we know.
Over the past few years my brother and I have reconnected. He lives in Maine with his wife. We exchange emails. He occasionally writes in one of his blogs. That’s something we now have in common. Through his emails I see the brother that I left behind. Our exchanges are intimate in a way that only he and I could possibly understand. He has a depth, an intelligence, and a brilliance that he doesn’t often share. He has remained sensitive and insightful. I hope he continues to write. And maybe pick up the paint brush again.
The world, my world, is a better place because of my brother. I love him for who he is and am glad that we are once again connected.