Thanksgiving with Casey.

I'm 21 months older than my brother, Casey, but I've always wanted to be more like him. We have the same nose, tan skin, and quirky, sarcastic sense of humor. From there, though, the differences between us spread out and out like the branches on a tree. From the outside looking in, Casey could have easily been labeled the "jock" of the two of us, and I the "nerd." While I may have excelled without much effort in my academics, Casey is -and has always been- just as knowledgeable as me. Likewise, Casey was a natural athlete at almost every sport he tried, but I was not without my own interest in them.

Beyond these stereotypical comparisons, our hobbies and interests were always quite varied and colorful. When we reached our adolescent years, though, the easy rapport between us often turned static as we dealt seperately (and uniquely) with the obstacle course that is high school. In retrospect, Casey has his own misgivings and regrets about those years; to me -then and even now- I reflect on them as an observer with a sort of awe. As a teenager, my brother handled everything with an ease I could never wrap my hands around (or even a finger!) He was effortlessly popular, almost always snagged the person he was crushing on, and seemed to be living out the often awkward gap before college with an unreal, celebrity-like aura. Meanwhile, I was being tracked down in the hallways by his admirers.

"You're Casey's sister, aren't you?" they'd ask, giggling.
"No," I'd reply irritatedly. "He's Lenae's brother."

I was behind the trends, horribly uncomfortable and clueless about the opposite sex, and gifted only with my schoolwork... which hardly earned me points with any of my classmates. I spent high school simultaneously wishing everything was different -that I could retain my aptitude but be as cool as my brother- and that it would all just be over with NOW.

Casey and I have come a long way since high school. We live on separate sides of the country, moving in spheres of everyday life as opposite from each other as they ever were. But we can still make each other laugh as easily as when we were 15 and 17... Whether we think it consciously or not, there is the recognition in the other's eyes that the sibling sitting across from you shared your childhood and knows, at least in part, better than anyone else why you are who you are today. Every year that passes, I settle more and more into my skin and am learning that there is no need to long to be like someone else. Even better? My brother -despite the frequent clash of our opinions and worldviews- thinks I'm cool.

Last night, we stayed up late while our parents and my kids slept, having the longest conversation we've had in person since I got married three and a half years ago. I was struck over and over again during our dialogue at how different and how alike we are. We may point in different directions, but we surround ourselves with with the same things, the same people. And though we do not share a mirrored set of dreams, we are both dreamers, and there is a comfort and mutual respect in knowing that.

This year, among the myriad things I am blessed with, I am especially grateful that my brother and I emerged into our adult years with a stronger bond than we had when lived in the same home, rooms side by side.