Occasionally I take a photo that tells a story I didn’t see when I pressed the trigger.

Like this one of my son and his older brother.

I took this right around the same time I was finding out how bad my kidneys had deteriorated, but didn’t really look at it until a week or so later, when I was starting to absorb the idea that I will need a transplant in order to continue living.

I already have other medical conditions that, on average, shorten the average persons average lifespan by years and decades… but I cover that on another blog. This is supposed to be my lighthearted fun blog.

So, essentially, a transplant isn’t going to do me any favours… in that, tossed in with everything else, most alcoholic, homeless Russians born in 1964 will probably outlive me.

So… yeah, my son and step-son trudging along, looking back, moving forward, supporting each other, having to deal with the realities of life that I can’t help them with in a future I can’t be a part of… that’s what I see. But I also see Andrew T. Great being a little impatient with his younger brother while Little Victor looks back for his ball. And maybe nothing is written in stone.