LJ/DW Iol, Week 5: Oubaitori
I have always been compared to my brother
by others.
I have always compared myself to him
as well.
It’s human nature to compare;
right or wrong.
But comparing can be toxic.
I never felt good enough
until lately.
He was the outgoing one.
I was the reserved one.
He was is the boisterous one.
I was the shy, reserved one.
He was the go-getter.
He was going to grow up and be a rich doctor or a lawyer.
I would grow up, be pretty and someone’s wife.
With comparisons like that, why would I ever think I could be an achiever?
As things turned out,
He got straight As all through school.
(Notice how I did not use the word “earned”.)
I had mostly B’s and Cs, except in math when I had D-minuses
because in spite of my failing scores,
I was a nice girl who did not make trouble and at least showed up for class.
He excelled at music and theater.
Senior year he had the male lead in Hello Dolly!
I was an extra once freshman year in some obscure play no one has ever heard of.
I won ten dollars in an art contest one time that the assistant principal ran to show how students need to clean up better in the cafeteria.
Only two people ended up submitting posters, but I came in first.
I never told my parents because it wasn’t much of a competition.
When Gigi died
I sobbed for weeks,
or was it months?
He said,
“Yeah, but we still have Mamaw”.
He and I saw the world in vastly different ways.
As much as I dearly loved Mamaw,
something about that outlook didn’t seem right.
He made Mamaw sound like a spare.
Not everything or everyone is replaceable.
He’s had three marriages.
I have had one for almost 40 years.
As an adult, he has lived in a dozen or more homes.
I have lived in one.
He has burned through relationships with colleagues and friends over the years.
I still have my friends from grade school, and I am loyal to my workplace.
He’s been in some big trouble and taken many risks.
Not all have ended well.
I won’t even go there.
Our lives and beliefs are opposites.
We’re so obverse we don’t even mirror one another.
The only thing we do agree on is this:
When Dad died 28 years ago,
we made a promise to him
on his deathbed
to always take care of Mom.
And this is what we do.