Why I Am Writing My Autobiography

My brother, Don Pattie, is 7 ½ years younger than I am.  He is writing his autobiography.  He urges me to write my own.  I know things about our family that happened before he was born.  For one thing, I have vivid memories of our Pattie grandparents, who died when Don was a baby.

Don says, “I know your story will be very different from mine.”

Does he suspect how different?  Our lives have taken very different courses.  Don has remained a typical Texan, a follower of Fox television.  He does not believe in climate change.  He collects guns and is an enthusiastic supporter of the NRA.  I am a liberal, a member of the ACLU, a supporter of Planned Parenthood, and an advocate of gun control.

How I diverged from the path taken by Don and other members of our family will take many pages, many chapters, thousands of words. 

But please keep one thing in mind: This is an exploration of how two people with the same parents came to think so differently about many things.  It is not an attack on Don. 

When I go to visit Don and Mary in their lovely home in Garland, Texas, we sit in matching velvet-covered chairs in their living room.  Both of us are now on oxygen 24 hours a day, so we sit there with tubes in our noses, trying to breathe and talk at the same time. We keep to “safe” topics, like the number of days since Dallas has had a drop of rain and the temperature still in the high 90's in mid-September.  The house is air-conditioned, so we are quite comfortable, avoiding the heat outside and also any heated conversation.

Our parents never argued, never raised their voices.  One evening when Daddy stood up from the dinner table and threw his napkin down on the table in an angry gesture that was so astonishing that I still remember it 75 years later.

On the other hand, Don and I enjoy a good debate.  We could go on for hours.  Why did we get that way?  Are we like teenagers reacting to the repression of all emotion that we felt as children?  Or is it an inherited characteristic, an enate enjoyment in arguing?  Mother told me that our Pattie grandparents were always arguing with each other, often about obscure passages in the Bible. 

So why don’t Don and I indulge in this family pastime?  It upsets Mary.  She is like Mother; she wants to avoid any conflict, even in conversation.  And we both love Mary, just as, despite our differences, we love each other.. 

So we talk about the weather.  

But writing my autobiography gives me an opportunity to explore my own development and way of thinking.  Indulge me and read on.