Grab the duffel bag with your clothes for the week, the back pack, and the instrument. All the while hoping you don't forget anything...... Across the road you go to the other house with your other family. A separate life. Separate dogs, separate beds, separate tooth brushes. Still a separate life, with hard feelings and strong siblings almost as strong as you are, each with problems of their own because of the circumstance. Growing up seeing one family for half the year, every other week. With new parents and adding a couple brothers along the way. The journey ever lasts, and will never be traded for anything, because this just adds more love to the equation. More people to love you, and spreading the love equally, but never letting it thin. Keeping your cool even when terrible things happen because that what the older sibling does, and always taking other people's feelings into consideration. So what is this called? A Broken home.