IN MOST FAMILIES, there is a favorite child. Parents deny it and maybe they truly don’t see it, but it’s obvious to the children. Unfairness bothers children greatly. It’s hard to always come in second.
It’s also hard to be the favorite. Earned or unearned, the favorite is a burdensome thing to be.
I was our mother’s favorite child. Lowell was our father’s. I loved our father as much as our mother, but I loved Lowell best of all. Fern loved our mother best. Lowell loved Fern more than he loved me.
When I lay out these facts, they seem essentially benign. Something here for everyone. More than enough to go around.