The quiet,enduring bond between siblings.

When I see my younger brother, who returned home in November, carefully sorting through our parents’ belongings—cleaning them instead of throwing everything away—and arranging them with such care and affection in his own home, which still feels empty because his belongings from the U.S. haven’t arrived yet, my heart feels warm and grateful.

To be reunited like this, sharing affection again at nearly seventy years of age, fills me with gratitude every single day.

When I think of our late parents, I regret the things I did wrong more than the things I did right, and that makes my heart ache deeply.

I realize that my relationship with my brother could have ended the same way—but thankfully, we set things right before it was too late. Now we are able to live our lives with closeness and warmth again, and I feel how truly fortunate that is...