Tuesday, June 6, 2017
He ain't heavy, he's my brother.
I don’t write much about my brother, perhaps because I never thought there was much to say. He’s sixteen years older than I am, so he wasn’t much of a part of my childhood. When I was in middle school and high school, he lived at home in a room above the garage for a while, but I only ever saw him at supper-time.
For many years now, I’ve only seen him a few times a year and talked to him on the phone only a few times more. Since Mom passed away in February, our contact has been much more frequent. This past Sunday, we spent the day together at a niece’s family picnic. He shared some stories from his youth that I have never heard. I’m sure he has a lot more to say, and maybe I need to make the effort to hear them.
In honor of his birthday today, I’m sharing some of the old pictures of him that I found in Mom’s stuff. Lucky for me, he doesn’t have internet, so if you know him and run into him this week, don’t tell him I posted this. But you can wish him a happy birthday.