This is a picture of John and me in the backyard of his home.
By the time we moved across the pond, I think John and his family were living in a different house.
He was a year and a half older than I, and had been the youngest cousin, until I came along. It was his mother who had been instrumental in arranging my adoption.
After we moved to Canada, we kept in touch with my dad's family by letter an occasional trans-Atlantic calls. At the end of my senior year in high school, John came over for a visit. He stayed with us for a while, but moved out to a rooming house and got himself a job and a small motorbike.
Eventually, he returned to England. He did a lot of travelling around the world before settling down in a town very near the one he lived in when we were kids.