Having a younger sibling sometimes brings out the grown-up in me. It did so - even when I was a kid. One of my sisters is two years younger than me. We shared a room for most of our childhood and I remember feeling sort of responsible for her. Maybe that was our parents’ intention, instilling it in me with their continuous warnings: “Look after your sister.” Decades ago, when some bully of a thirteen-year-old wanted to beat her up, I stepped in (with my WORDS!) to prevent the altercation. I couldn’t let anyone hurt her. This was no ordinary feat - I am not what you would call, intimidating. Later, when she suffered a tragic loss as a seventeen year-old, I felt responsible for her recovery, her survival. She may not have known it, but that sensation guided my every move around her. Consciously or not, I relinquished a great deal of this innate sibling duty once I had my own kids to take care of and worry about; kids to be a grown-up for. B...