One of the few upsides to aging is that sibling bonds get stronger. Our lives were pretty remarkable in a confusingly dysfunctional way. Yvette is 8 years younger than me and our relationship was my first foray into motherhood. Although she adored me I could never be – at least in my eyes, a good enough role model. I wish I had paid more attention to the choices I made, especially now that I am cognizant of the fact that my little sister was watching. Peter was a runt of kid, with energy that made you dizzy. He was fun to play with, cute to watch and still has a heart of gold slash glass. He’s too kind for his own good and I envy that because I can’t claim the same. I am 21 years Jake’s senior and already had my own kids while he was growing up. He referred to our parents as “my dad” and “my mom” for a long time. I suppose I was a curiosity to him and I regret we didn’t share the memories I had with Pete and Bet. Now that we’re all adults, a fierce and raging glue binds us. I credit my parents for this. They never allowed us to treat one another with anything but love. You never get to choose your family, but I think we got a pretty sweet deal.