Being adopted, I had somewhat of a diverse and interesting family dynamic growing up. I had five cousins whom I referred to as brothers, But only one I was close to. His name was Bill and he was the youngest of the cousins and the last one still living at home by the time I arrived. It took him some time to warm up to me. Eventually he did and we were fast friends as well as partners in crime. I loved hanging out with him and helping him work on his truck. He took EVERYTHING apart! I remember this old school yellow bicycle that he came home with one day. It was one of the kind with a motor. Well by the time he was done with it that thing would fly! I remember hanging on for dear life, tears streaming down my face flying down those old dirt roads at well over 60 MPH. We had great times growing up together. After he graduated he moved away and we briefly lost touch. However, by the time I had moved out on my own we were back at it again! Thick as thieves we were! He hit a rough spot and I was there for him. He moved in and lived with me for nearly three years. It was great! He is now again out on his own, and we both have our own families now. There are times when I truly do miss him. I often find myself looking back at all the fond memories we shared and a devilish grin spreads across my face. I know we are busy with our lives, but how I wish we could relive those moments in time. Ah, nothing like the good old days.
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