Today I've been thinking about our young years. I remember specifically a time when we were very small and getting ready to go visit Grandma, our favorite place. Dad and mom let us sit in the car while they got Patric ready for the trip. You remember that little beat up brown Chevette. We got to sit in the front seats! 

Well, I got the passenger side because you just HAD to play race car driver! Then out of no where you grabbed the stick shift and we went rolling down the driveway. We loved it, but our parents running behind the car and screaming "Brake! Brake!" were terrified. Suddenly, Boom, we hit the curb. Dad stopped at your window reached in and put the car in park. He was angry. And you, you my sweet brother, told dad that it was me!

We didn't get to go to Grandma's that day, but we did get a memory of living on the edge for a few seconds.

There are so many memories beautiful brother. Hopefully they will help my heart hurt a little bit less. 

Until we meet again.