Meeting my brother, again.

This last Friday I had the opportunity to open up our home to my little brother. He's 16 and almost taller than me, so I guess he's not that small. I've never met him other than being in the hospital when he was born. I was 6 years old and I remember dancing around the maternity wing with my little sis, C, chanting, "We have a little brother. We have a little brother." After that he was adopted by a wonderful woman and I never spoke with him or talked to him again. My family's history is very convaluted and at times tragic, but our hard journey eventually turned into a beautiful and inspiring story. So Little V arrived at the train station Friday night where we picked him up. I knew immediately he was my brother. He looks identical to my Dad except with blond hair. We spent the weekend doing things he'd never done before. We went to the beach, we took him around base (he wants to join the military after high school), showed him our city, took him on a trip to Hollywood and Los Angeles. He was so thrilled to see the celebrity stars in Hollywood Boulevard. And he must've taken 25 pictures of fancy vehicles he'd never seen before. I felt like I had known him for years after only spending 2 days with him. I was pretty sad when he left on the train Monday morning to head up to my Dad's house for the remainder of summer. He's such a fantastic kid and I'm so glad to have him in my life...again.

{our lovely beach city from the mountain top}



{the boys enjoying the hot tub}


{no, uncle, don't leave}


{he had to get a picture with the Hollywood sign in the back...way back there}

{we hiked to the observatory and planetarium}