The Three Little Pigs

My brothers and I have been trading memoirs these past few months. The different ways we three have approached our memoir activity reflects I think basic outlooks we each have regarding our time on this planet.  Think of the Three Little Pigs.

My brother D is methodical, chronological, and logical in his approach.  Start at the beginning and tell the story as he remembers it unfolding.  I am jealous of his ability to line up his life so cleanly in his mind. I'll call him the Brick House Pig.  D's the guy who sets a goal and with nose to grindstone works on it, whatever "it" is, until realization.

J has offered brief vignettes that do not necessarily connect any dots chronologically, although his stories do favor the early part of his life. J is the Stick House Pig. He was focused and successful, but always looked fondly at the grass on the other side.  

Me? Well I am a loose dog.  There is no logic or continuity between the tales I share.  When I am reminded of something from my past, I write about it.  Memories from the age of first awareness to some less than a decade old and everything in between. And yeah, I am the logical choice for the Straw House Pig.  I'm the brother who wandered aimlessly through Life trying to latch onto that next bright object. The butterfly catcher.

Three brothers of the same mother but different fathers.  Three brothers who were well prepared for Life by imperfect parents who struggled with their own demons. Three brothers who approached Life on their own terms.  All three of us have had victories.  We have all experienced failures.  But each of us lived our lives without livng in each other's shadow.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ........................................