It Ain't What It Appears To Be: Part I

Now, in the usual roles between siblings, the big brother (the title refers to age, of course, not size, but size usually coincides as well) looks out for, and takes care of, the younger sister. It is the proper order of things, so to speak. However, in my particular situation, it seems my little (younger would be a better description since neither of us are of a large size) sister is actually my big brother. Not in the sense of always watching everything I do (spying on me), as in George Orwell's novel, 1984. No. More in the sense of being always ready to lend aid, in any way that it may be needed, whenever it's needed. 
Yep, I would have to say that my little sister is, and has been, a better big brother to me than I ever was to her. There are times I feel guilty about this apparent role reversal. But our circumstances, mostly mine, have shaped this aspect of our relationship. I am a lucky son-of-a-gun, as my Uncle Louie used to say. I probably wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for the support I receive from family and friends. As well as the companionship of my feathered friends, one now dead, and one alive and currently yelling (or, kicking and screaming, if you prefer). And of course, Albert. My untamed, but mostly friendly (at least to me), black bear. Don't tell anyone though. I believe it's most likely illegal to have a bear sleeping under your bed in the state of Connecticut. 
There is more to any life beyond what it appears to be. And if you don't believe me, better make a habit of keeping a firm grip on your hat.