In Memory of a Brother

If I have to name the best childhood memory, it would be of growing up with the best brothers one could ever have. With two older siblings, life was an adventure. A daily struggle of who will Mama and Papa listen to. And since I was the youngest, I always get to say the last word – and often get away with it. I watched the two try to get off music and arts lessons with Papa on the weekends. They always failed – miserably. I have to laugh now that I think about it… Moving to the city...

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