Chapter 33

I stood on the porch and really looked at it. It was raised, with a woodpile underneath. When we were growing up, there was a potbellied stove providing most of the heat during the winter. Which meant we had to chop wood to stay warm, which in turn meant getting up early in the mornings or staying up late at night to do more physical labor on top of the work we did during the day

As I stood there, I realized I’d never really looked at the house where I’d spent over twenty years of my life. I’d been too busy coming and going to enjoy the walls around me. I could draw its floorplan with my eyes shut, but I couldn’t say what color the living room was or even if there’d been pictures on those walls.

Had I looked at but not seen my brothers too? What did I really know about them—about them today and not in the past? Was I kidding myself to think we were close?