When Did We Grow Up, Michael?

I ran across this old photo a couple of months ago and stuck it in my scriptures.

This is me at age 17 or 18 and my brother, Michael - he's probably 16 here.

The picture was taken at what we all call "the old old house", right next to Tissue's yard.

Tissue was our golden retriever.

I miss Tissue.

I don't remember the picture being taken. But this is what I remember:

Michael was my very best friend

I loved wearing overalls

nearly every night one of us would go into the other's room to ask a quick question, and the conversation would take off ... several hours later the person whose room it was would be asleep on the bed, the other one would stumble out to their own bed

Michael wrote poetry

he would read it to me and would ask me what I thought of it

Michael LOVED Richard Nixon

Michael was a movie lover - but I think what he loved most about movies was telling the ENTIRE plot to me after watching it

Michael's friends were my friends, and my friends were his. And sometimes we had crushes on each others' friends.

We could talk about anything - and we could talk about nothing.

Most of the time we talked about nothing.

When did we grow up Michael?