My little brother has passed me in every way my entire life. Sure, that's tons of hyper-qualifiers, but it is all true. When he was in the first grade and I was in the third, he always came to my classroom for language art classes. We went away to college the same semester, even though I had already gone for two years. It was like I had waited for him to leave.
He is visiting me right now as he travels from Pennsylvania to Oregan. I just finished having my second baby, and he just finished his PHD. He is preparing for his first year as a professor. We are both busy with our important jobs. I think I should do more in my life. This need overwhelms me and I don't know why. My thoughts that I should raise my children and sing the ABC song over and over and read books and prepare nutritious meals and physically care for them and walk them to the park and organize the family calendar in addition to writing and having a semi-career with writing seems ridiculous if I turn it into a list. In my mind, I don't know why I can't do it. I have the standard that I should work, work, work. Somewhere, in between the revolution of women normalizing gaining a degree and career, the kids were left behind. They can't be though, because we see the current mess of what happens to adults when no one raised them as children.
I mourn the idea that my brother is leading the life I could have had. My job is important, but I may always wonder what I would do if I didn't have it.