Bringing Up Brother
I’ve been a caregiver all my life. Why don’t I long for kids of my own?
My brother was born thirteen years after me. The two of us have the same brown skin, the same curly black hair, the same deep-set eyes. But that’s where our similarities end. He is six feet three inches tall, athletic and long-limbed, capable of engulfing me in a single embrace. He’s gentle yet fearless, by far the boldest in our family. He stubbornly pursues what he wants in ways more ingenious than I could ever devise.
Filipina. Freelance writer. Feminist. Sunset chaser. Chocoholic. (Not necessarily in that order.)
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More in this series
Family, Fate, and Two Astrologies
The Eastern Zodiac is one area of mysticism my family can all agree on.
A Separate Dream: Faith, Family, and Knowing When to Let Go
When a hard line on intermarriage leads to exclusion.
When the Moon Met the Tiger: Homecoming and Loss in Myanmar
A homecoming could happen across many continents. It was not a physical place, but a family’s embrace.