Came across some very old photographs that my mother had saved that were passed onto my sister from whom I received them. They show my brother from the days he was a wee small little guy doing his very best, as he has all of his life. In high school he ran on the track team.. I played football. He received a scholarship and attended college full time right out of high school. I bought a motorcycle from two cheaters and found the frame was cracked in five places and all of the mounts for the motor were broken off. I built a chopper out of it before there was any such thing as a chopper. Repaired the frame by having steel rods welded into the hollow frame tubes. A friend of mine welded everything back together. Rebuilt the engine and increased the horsepower with high compression pistons, bigger valves, a special cam from a Harley factory racer, painted it a unique, custom Royal Purple with a full metallic silver/purple frame. All original work. Called it “The Wildcat”. Great, great motorcycle. All my life I have been close to Harleys.
He needed braces on his teeth. He had to wear them and he had to go to the dentist a lot to get his teeth in order. He did that. He didn’t complain. He didn’t think it was a bad or a good thing, he just did it. His brother didn’t need braces. His sister didn’t need them. He did and he did everything he should have and his teeth came out just fine.
My brother went to college, learned Spanish and went to work in Chile where he met and married a well-off woman and returned to America to operate her family’s farm in Alabama. Decades later, their family all grown and he’s still at it. I went to work, traded the custom motorcycle for a brand new Harley FLH, became the Road Captain for a large motorcycle club, met my wife, sold the bike, got a car, had three children, travelled around the world many, many times on business as an International executive, walked on the Wall in China many times, visited 91 countries on business, and retired. Decades later I came across the photographs from my mother, most of which were labeled to identify the people, my family and some of my ancestors. Some were like a reunion with many people who are no longer alive. Many smiles… Some tears and an appreciation of my younger brother who is still at it, running the farm far, far away. The boy is gone but he’s returned in the photographs. Sweet memories.. Cherished moments. A life expanded because of the photographs. A life recalled.. from the photographs.. A life re-lived, a life remembered, times that were important.. Wonderful Memories of so many moments… May you have a similar experience.
L’ Chaim!
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