December 1958
I don't see my brother, my only sibling, much anymore. Once he graduated from law school and moved to Minnesota, we've never lived closer than 700 miles apart. Aside from a joint trip to Paris with his daughters while I lived in Belgium, these days we see each other only at events: weddings, funerals, graduations.
My brother had a meeting in Denver this morning, so he spent last evening with us. Given the number of times I've been ready to strangle him over the past decade (example: on the way to Our Lady of Sorrows to plan our father's funeral, I threatened to make him get out of the car and walk after a particularly wounding comment), it was good to be reminded that remnants still remain of the strong bond we shared as children.
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