Philip

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Philip was born five and a half years after me, and I was completely thrilled at having a little brother, even if he wasn’t named Jehu as we speculated.

As a kid, he could quote rhymes and stories and songs like nobody else, possibly as a result of having six doting older siblings to read to him. His great memory hasn’t failed with his old age, and he still can quote verbatim more than pretty much anyone I know. He’s quirky, he’s hilarious, he’s rawther good looking, he can work like a horse, and he’s quite creative. And if you need someone to move a couch for you, Philip is just the person. (Sorry, Pip, I couldn’t resist.)

Somewhere, in the last five minutes or so, he turned from a little boy into a man, and is now living in Honduras for two years, pretending he’s an adult and running a bookstore. I miss his face dreadfully, but can’t help but be proud of him for his love of adventure and love of people. 

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