Friday, February 12, 2016
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Dear Bob,
Your're the cousin who was the bane of my existance for the first 12 years of our lives. Our fights were legendary. (And sometimes you won.) We fought in the backyard, in the apple trees, in the house, in the neighbor's swimming pool. We fought over board games, ball games, bicycles. We beat each other up and tied each other to the garage door. We fought over who had the better mother: ("I don't like your mother!" "Well my mother is your aunt!") Sometimes when it got unbearable for the adults, your Grampa Wiegand would take us in the kitchen and play poker with us by the hour. It was the only time we got along.
Our weary mothers used to say we were too close in age. Mercifully, we grew older and didn't have much to say to each other as teenagers, but I carried your Senior picture in my wallet to make my girlfriends jealous because you were so good looking.
Bet you thought I was writing to apologize for those early years. OH NO. How else would I have all these great memories, this special bond I've always felt?
Today when I helped your sisters guide you down the aisle, I felt that special bond more than ever. You'll always be my cousin. But today, you were my brother.
