Since my sister is so different from me—or since I' m so different from her—we aren't very close. The older we get, the busier we become, and the less we see of each other, even though we live only half a mile apart. When we do get together, I feel that she's holding her breath and waiting for me to do or say something "wrong" while I'm walking on eggshells and praying that I don't. But inevitably, I do.

妹妹和我相差三歲半，但是生活方式的不同將我們隔離開來。她保守、安靜，而我總是在冒險，我唯一真正安靜的時候就是睡覺時。我成年后的大多數時間，總是在向妹妹和其他家人道歉，為我的另類，為我的穿著讓他們尷尬，有時候是因為做事不當，有時候是因為說錯話。

因為妹妹和我不一樣---或者說因為我跟她不一樣---我們并不是很親密。年齡越大，人就越忙，我們見面的機會也越少，盡管我們的住處只有半里遠。每次我們在一起時，我總能感到她屏住呼吸，等著我做錯事或說錯話，這時候我總是如履薄冰，祈禱自己沒錯。但是不可避免的是，我總是錯了。

Because my sister seemed the least upset with my summer plans, I humbly asked her for a ride to the airport. "No problem, " she said casually, "but don't tell Dad! " I smiled and agreed. It's not that our father is some kind of tyrant. We know that he loves us very much; that's evident from all the sacrifices he has made for us. I would not have gone to law school if it weren't for him. He's just worried and has a hard time separating his worry from his love.

On the way to the airport the next day, my sister was quiet as usual. But for the first time since I'd decided to go, she started asking questions about my trip: where I was planning to travel, where I was going to stay. She seemed truly interested.

因為看起來，妹妹最不擔心我的暑期計劃，我謙恭地請她開車送我去機場。“沒問題，”她輕描淡寫地說，“但是別告訴爸爸！”我微笑地答應了她。并不是因為父親有些專政，我知道他很愛我們，從他為我們所做的犧牲就可以看得出來。如果不是因為他，我是不會去法學院學習的。他只是擔心，并且難以將擔心和愛區分開來。

第二天去機場的路上，妹妹很安靜，像往常那樣。在我決定離開后，這是她第一次問我有關旅行的問題：準備去哪旅行？住在哪？她看起來很感興趣。

My family is not big on emotional goodbyes, so with a "have a good time" and a quick "love you too, " my sister was gone. I was sad because I felt she just couldn't understand. I wished at that moment that she could come with me, but I knew she wouldn't.

I checked in, took my seat and started to get organized. I glanced inside my bag which my sister had loaded in the trunk before we left for the airport. There, along with my passport, traveler's checks and other important items, was a small white envelope with "Kath" written on it in my sister's handwriting. I opened the envelope and found a bon voyage card. It was a lighthearted, funny card with a cartoon on the front. Most cards my family members give are funny cards, and this was no different—or so I thought.

我的家人不太擅長煽情式的離別，說了“玩的開心”及很快的一句“我也愛你”后，妹妹就回去了。我感到傷心，因為我感到她并不理解我。我希望那時她能和我一起去，但我知道，她不會的。

辦理登機手續，找到座位，開始整理東西。我匆匆看了我的袋子的里面，出發去機場前，妹妹把它放入了旅行箱。那里，和我的護照、旅行支票和其他重要物品在一起的，是一封小小的白色信封，上面寫著“凱思”，是我妹妹的筆跡。我打開信封，是一張送行卡。這是一張讓人心情愉快、有趣的卡片，前面是一幅卡通畫。我家人送出的卡片都是趣味性的，這個也沒什么不同--或者我是這么想的。

When I opened the card and read what was inside, I realized that my sister—who I had decided just couldn't understand—actually did understand. It seemed there was a small part of her that wished she were me, maybe a small part of her that always had wished she were me. The card was blank except for what my sister had written:

I really admire you for experiencing life in such a full way.
I love you.
Your sister,
Kristy

當我打開這張卡片，讀里面的文字，我才意識到我的妹妹--我剛剛認定并不理解我的人--事實上是理解的。看起來她身上的一小部分希望她就是我，或者她身上的一小部分一直都

希望她就是我。這張卡片上什么都沒有，除了我妹妹寫的這句話：

我真的很羨慕你，可以以這樣圓滿的方式體驗生活！
我愛你
你的妹妹
克里斯蒂