And as for me, well, if it hadn't been for him I wouldn't be typing these words right now. In one of the first postwar dysfunctional families my big brother was always there for me.
We're twelve years apart in age, rarely speak, and since we live a couple of thousand miles apart haven't seen each in years. We rarely agree on anything -- except when it came to our dad. We never had to think twice when he was involved in our lives or us in his.
Happy birthday Big Brother and I hope it was a blowout.
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