Highway To Hell

My sister and I fought like cats and dogs when we were growing up - I was the bad kid that everyone thought was good and she was the good kid who everyone thought was bad.  She was a typical teenager, pushing boundaries, mouthing off, skulking around but never really getting into any serious trouble.  I was a model citizen on the surface - polite, successful in school, quiet in demeanor, all the while moving apace down the Highway to Hell.  I fooled a lot of the adults but not my little sister.

I have characterized our relationship over the years as friendly but not warm.  Distant.  Not a bad relationship but not a close one.  As I'm sure is common in the human experience we've grown closer with the death of our last surviving parent.  I think both of us realize that a common bond has been severed and if we don't put in some effort to maintain the relationship it isn't going to thrive.  I also see that death causes people to reminisce, to reflect on the past (Ed Note: I believe that the definition of 'reminisce' is 'to reflect on the past,' making this sentence a partial waste of time) and share personal stories.  I told her that I was a little surprised that mom and dad had saved so much money while asking me to bear most of the financial load of my education when I didn't have the time or money to do so.  I think she might have harbored an enduring resentment, believing that they lavished a lot of money on me, that she had gotten the short end of the money stick.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this.  I guess I'm glad to have a real little sister.