The Day I Met My Brother

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When I first met my younger brother is a time I’ll never forget. When I was younger my mom and dad split up then as I got older I would only go over his house sometimes and talk to him on the phone a little bit too. Also when I was younger my grandparents (my dad’s parents) moved to Roanoke, Alabama for missionary work.
Ever since I was about 4 or 5 years old I would do down south and stay with them during the summer since I was their only grandchild. I really enjoyed being with my grandparents during the summer because it was the only time I seen them, they took me everywhere Cedar Pointe, Six Flags, Disney World, etc.
One summer I went down there and there was another kid down there a bit younger than me, so I don’t sweat it, I just figured I made a new friend. It was weird seeing another person with my grandparents spending time with them since me only seen them once a year so I did become a bit jealous. So we’re both staying down there hanging out with each other having fun.
Then one day my dad calls me and I’m on the phone with him in the bedroom so when we were done talking the other kid picks up the phone in the kitchen to talk to my father. So I think to myself, “Ok that’s cool”. So as I’m walking from the bedroom to the living room I passed the kitchen and I hear him call my father dad. So I thought to myself, “What’s going on”?
Then my grandparents sat us down and explained to us what was going on, and I was just disappointed my dad didn’t let me know from the start. I think my dad could’ve let me known ahead of time instead of letting me find out on my own.
Then I also found out I had another younger brother, and he came down south with us the next following summers.





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