There's a kind of division of labor that develops between siblings - you each play to your strengths. My brother was always far more affectionate and expressive than me (and also taller and better looking and fairer haired and girls tended to "like" like him) - he would pick out the card we'd all sign on holidays, his thank you letters sounded more sincere. We - my parents, my sister, myself, my relatives - sort of assumed that he would get married and would have kids and that would basically be the best chance our unfortunate last name would have of continuing to curse future generations. There's many, many others who share our burden, but our particular branch of the tree has been withering for a while: my paternal grandfather was the only one of his family to marry, my dad was an only son, and now I am an only son (though my sister could still become a single mother).
It's an incredibly stupid point, really (I'm not sure if the world needs more of us or not, and I've resented the name since about second grade, when kids figured out it rhymed with "Boner") but my mom, however, has asked me a number of times (including three times since my brother died): "Are you gay?" It's not really a question I'm supposed to answer.
