04-17-2012, 07:46 PM
I remember the night of the circus and my Dad carried ole Pete into his house, he had fallen asleep and it was late but I remember as I looked out the window how proud I was of my Dad. Pete never had a father because his was a french drunk and Petes mother kicked him out. He was told he died but he lived a few towns over. Pete or PI (thats what we called him) latched on to my family and loved my Dad. He went everywhere with us. Kinda like an extra brother.
He never meet him and refused to see him on his deathbed, I still bitch at him about that.
He never meet him and refused to see him on his deathbed, I still bitch at him about that.
He ain't heavy, he's my brother.