Brothers, originally uploaded by twoblueday.If you can’t tell, that’s me on the viewer’s left. Picture taken in 1947, I think. I am not sure where it was taken, perhaps Macedonia, Illinois, which is so small as to be less than a town, less than a village. A hamlet, perhaps. There’s no one to ask. He was born in Tampa in 1945, and I was born in Detroit in 1946, and my next younger sibling, my sister, was born back in Tampa. My father was from Bartow, Florida, not far from Tampa, and my mom, although she grew up in southern Illinois (near “Macedony” as the locals say), had people in Detroit. After WWII (in which my parents both served), practically a whole generation of men were looking for work.
I wanted to add a bit about my brother Don, and how much our relationship over the last several years, means to me. I reckon since it is my blog, I can be as personal as I want.
I’ve never formed real friendship bonds with people in my life. Not the kind we all see in movies (and, probably more notably, in commercials!). My family, when I deigned to have anything to do with them, and female companion, when I had one, were always pretty much the friends I’ve had. Sometimes I get wistful about this. I see those images of closely-bonded friends, whether male or female, and wonder where I went wrong. Well, by now, it doesn’t much matter, I probably am not going to change.
Don and I talk about anything and everything. We share a love of music and of photography. He’s my hero. Although I have the formal education, I’ve always thought he had the smarts. The time we’ve spent together as “seasoned” adults has meant and continues to mean the world to me. Hell, I’m not even embarrassed if he reads this.
