Different, yet the same. This picture reminds me of times so many years ago. My mother called me today, and as I answered the phone I hear her yell "Listen to this!" She wanted me to hear the rain pounding the porch roof from 1000 miles away.

At least once every summer a freak rainstorm occurs in our part of the country that makes you contemplate calling up Noah and asking him to fax over his blueprints. Apparently, today was the day for said storm.

The strikingly handsome young man standing in our backyard is none other than my little brother. I knew my dad would be sending these pics, and my imagination ran off and led me back to all those summers when the rain would come but the thunder and lightning were on vacation. Mom would let my siblings and I run about in the backyard. Aside from running about like children who had never seen rain, we would attempt to dig holes fast enough so that the rain would not fill them (which never worked.) My brother loved to take out his fishing pole and practice casting in the yard.

When the picture arrived this afternoon and I saw my twenty-year-old bigger-than-me little brother standing in a puddle six inches deep, I was shocked. I'm not sure what I was expecting. Possibly a picture of us as children splashing in the puddles, but definitely not an adult. I suppose in my mind my parents will always be young, and my brother, sister, and I will always be small children. That is where I am happiest, and that is where I wish to stay.


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