For my parents' forty-seventh wedding anniversary, we make a brunch reservation at a nautical-themed restaurant called Danfords on the northern coast of Long Island. It’s just my mother, my father, and me. My younger brother can’t make it down from Massachusetts. He is the assistant manager of a sporting-goods store, and vacation time is a luxury he can’t often afford. I, on the other hand, live a mere two hours away in New York City, where I earn my living as a marketing consultant. So my brother visits when he can, and I visit less often than I should.