We're in our backyard in Norfolk, Virginia - just off of Granby Street and not far from Ocean View. The year is 1951, maybe 1952. My brother (older by almost five years) and I are trying to stay cool on an obviously hot afternoon (I can tell from the shadows). Please note we spared no expense to jury-rig a pool - looks like a shower curtain but was probably some military surplus.
The memories evoked for me have to do with family. My brother and I are not close and never were. Our interests are different, our life styles are different, our religious orientations are different, our politics are different. We're just different, but ... we're brothers. Growing up, however, I did everything I could to irritate him, and my mother says I was very good at it. Nevertheless, he let me live.
When he has needed my help, I have been more than happy to be there. If he needs it again, I'll be there. I'd like to think he feels the same. Friends may come and go, but one's family is forever. As they say, blood is thicker than water.
I am a fortunate man. Life's been good to me so far.