(send me yours)
Stephen O was my first
real boyfriend.
I was in 7th grade.
He lived in Brooklyn,
was a Stuyvesant
High School senior,
and read serious books
out loud to me.
We wrote letters
once a week for
years (I saved his).
His sister Ellen
said my bikini top
looked like
two peanut shells
held together with string.
I was horrified.
My brother Steve, 4 years older than I, was the absolutely most wonderful brother and best friend anyone could ever wish for. When he was little our parents called him, "sunshine boy." As an adult he often "bitched" about political and social injustices, but still somehow with that ray of light to it. I think of him and miss him every day since he died in 2017. I am ever grateful for his presence in and effect on my life.
Time for Ellen stories?