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  • My little sister, Jennifer, and me when we lived in...

    My little sister, Jennifer, and me when we lived in Las Vegas.

  • My little sister, Jennifer, and me when we lived in...

    My little sister, Jennifer, and me when we lived in Las Vegas.

  • My little sister, Jennifer, and me when we lived in...

    My little sister, Jennifer, and me when we lived in Las Vegas.

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Heather Skyler, April 2016

Whenever the holiday season begins, I start to rethink my entire life. Why did I decide it was a good idea to move all over the country so that now I am at the opposite end of the United States from my sister who lives in New York City? We always promised each other we’d live in the same town, something we haven’t accomplished since I left Las Vegas for college in Ohio at age 18.

Saying you’ll always live near someone is a difficult promise to keep unless you plan your lives together, and that can be complicated enough with your own husband and kids, let alone your dear sibling. But as Thanksgiving approaches, I’m filled with deep sadness that I won’t be spending it with my sister and her family. I’m also disappointed that my father and stepmother will be celebrating at their home in Minnesota, and not with me.

Luckily, we have a few family members fairly nearby – my mom and stepdad, my husband’s parents and two of my cousins and their mates. And they will all be joining us for Thanksgiving. Still, I love the idea of having everyone in my family gather in the same place at the same time, which is unlikely to happen for a very long time, if ever.

Taking a very unofficial survey of my friends, I seem to have moved more than most. So far, I’ve lived in five states and two countries. Most of the moves involved either school or a job, and one was primarily a whim. I regret none of my wanderings, but I see now that staying put can have its advantages, at least for some families, even though it probably wouldn’t really have mattered in my case. My sister, mother and father are all scattered far from our hometown of Las Vegas, and I doubt my presence alone would’ve kept them there.

My parents always encouraged me to go far afield and have new experiences in new places. My husband, John, is also a bit of a wanderer, so we decided together to move from Seattle to Madison, Wis., and then to California. None of my moves was forced on me.

But these days, I find myself wishing I’d considered the proximity of my sister when I was moving around. I want to be a familiar fixture in my niece’s and nephew’s lives. I want to get together for dinner one night a week. I want to grow old together and buy matching rocking chairs for my porch, where we can sip gin and tonics and watch the neighbors walk by. At age 18, these things didn’t really occur to me.

I also, selfishly, want my own kids to stay in town. Of course, they will live their lives wherever they desire, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to bear living far from them.

There’s a closeness created by mere proximity that can’t really be replicated with letters, emails, FaceTime or photos. I’m not suggesting that a deep bond can’t be generated or maintained from a distance, but physical closeness typically engenders something deeper. The everydayness of a relationship is difficult to replicate from across the country. And I want that everydayness, especially with my kids.

So, I suppose if my son and daughter decide to live somewhere else when they’re older, that may need to be my final move: following my kids wherever they decide to wander and put down roots.

Contact the writer: hskyler@ocregister.com