Hillbilly Elegy

There was one person for whom the
term “sibling” definitely applied: my
sister, Lindsay. If any adjective ever
preceded her introduction, it was always
one of pride: “my full sister, Lindsay”;
“my whole sister, Lindsay”; “my big
sister, Lindsay.” Lindsay was (and
remains) the person I was proudest to
know. The moment I learned that “half
sister” had nothing to do with my
affections and everything to do with the
genetic nature of our relationship—that
Lindsay, by virtue of having a different
father, was just as much my half sister as
people I’d never seen—remains one of
the most devastating moments of my life.
Mamaw told me this nonchalantly as I