My baby brother….

My baby brother is quite the rascal. He was always sneaky. Sarcastic. It never failed that he was always into something that he shouldn’t have been. He always beat me in fishing. I can remember us playing football in the yard, or throwing a baseball. We rode our bikes everywhere. We would get in the back of the soybean fields and pull off our shirts. Hours were dedicated to perfecting our clubhouses. We hunted, fished, and trapped together. Truth is, we did everything together. If you saw me, chances are my brother was not far behind me.
We could do almost anything together but work. It never failed that when we got together we were off to get into something. Collecting cards, working on cars, and just being together was fun. We both got married and then I went to war. It hurt my brother that I chose to fight for our country. He understood why, but too many years have passed without seeing him.
If I have any regrets, it is that I haven’t spent enough time with him. I miss my brother. Laughing, joking and threatening anyone that would raise a hand to harm him. My brother, is my hero. No one works harder than him. He goes to church, has raised a beautiful family and has maintained his sarcastic edge. My life is better because he is my brother. God bless you, and I hope to see you soon.

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