I'm Major Jackson, and this is the slowdown.

I have borne witness to some profoundly tender relationships over the years between siblings.

I realize how quiet I have been in acknowledging the beauty of these bonds.

So, consider today's episode a shout-out, a lifting of siblinghood that avoids traditional

predictable codes and stereotypes. Once at my wedding, two brothers who are dear friends

joined together on a dance floor to the surprise of many attendees.

This was 23 years ago, and thus not a typical site back then in western Michigan.

Two men partnered up like tango dancers, adding to the festivities of laughter and joy. For just half a song, they did a front

Ocho, a little twirling, a few cross steps, and a dip. That's it. I could see some older family

members stricken by the sight, but mostly others saw it for what it was, a whimsical expression

of fraternal love. One of them even wrote a poem about it called Slow Dance. When he turns to

dip me, or I step on his foot because we are both leading, I know that one of us will die first,

and the other will suffer.

My friend Janice travels with her sister every year.

They have made it a ritual to visit new countries, no trailing partners, no children, nor their spouses,

just the two of them. I asked her, don't you ever tire of the other? Janice said, in a way,

we are kids again, discovering the world at the same time.

I've taken notice of my friend's connection with their siblings because of my estrangement

from my brother. I once treasured talking to him without guardrails. Those days are gone.

When we do connect, it's not guaranteed the reunion will yield warm memories.

The last time, unfortunately, the evening was over before it began, a birthday dinner that never

made it to the first course.

...