Finding out your brother is the perfect host

Life is made of “first times”. There will always be something that you will do for the first time. Yet nobody seems to stop and think about the first time you and your siblings start leading different lives. The first time your brother’s house isn’t “our” house anymore, but simply your brother’s house.

And trust me, the first time you visit your brother’s house isn’t like the first time you go skiing, emotionally I mean. It’s just a tough reminder of the fact that you’re not living under the same roof no more. This past weekend my boyfriend and I visited my brother who lives in Vienna, and the sensation was so weird.

I walked into his beautiful apartment, and thought to myself that this was not “our” apartment anymore, it was his apartment. That he got it all on his own and he decorated it and furnished it the way he liked.

But the funny thing is, the Lorenzo that I know is everywhere. The way he set up his computer station reminds me of his room in Rome (and all the other rooms he had while we were growing up). The way his documents are neatly filed in colour-coded folders is just the way he’d file our house bills in Rome. Even the cooking utensils that he loves are all there!

But I discovered another Lorenzo too. The Lorenzo who buys you groceries, who sets up the bed, cleans the house and takes you everywhere. The Lorenzo who cooks (and cleans) for you!

The bottom line is that after two years that Lorenzo has left Rome, I still miss him so much as my brother. And visiting him and staying at his house made the feeling that we’re no longer living together sink in even more. Especially when we were at the train station and we said goodbye!

You get used to living alone, not talking to your brother every single day of your life. Or more you forget the feeling of how sad it is not living together anymore. Visiting him this past weekend was so much fun, but I got reminded of the crappy feeling of not getting to see him every day. Of not knowing that he’s just a room down the hall away. It really sucks. Why does nobody ever talk about how hard it is to depart from your siblings?

Or maybe I’m just super lucky of the bond we have, I don’t know. What I do know is that my brother has some really good recipes that he’s been hiding over the years. Lorenzo, sharing is caring, send me your recipe book now.


I'm the daughter of an Italian family of diplomats, the second of three children, and a global citizen. I've lived in 7 cities around the world, I have a gigantic crush on Italy and my name has been mispronounced more times than I can remember.

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