Photo Album: The Past of a Loved One

Caring has always been his reflection, his "motto". He was the worst influence, yet the best cousin one could ask for. He was very protective, guarding me against his mistakes, even as he continued to make them. "Never do this," he would say. "Is this cigarette bothering you?" he would ask.
He wears a tired expression and a weight on his shoulders everywhere he goes. You can see it in his stance, his walk, that he carries the burden of his past mistakes that, undoubtedly, still haunt him to this day. All the time that was lost, wasted. The scares he bears are not of blood, but instead ones of longing and ink. But for every Hide there is a Jekyll, and his is revealed in the form of a cross on his right arm, under which is written "Matthew", for his fallen brother.
He is a happy father now, and a loving member of the family. I have no doubt that he is proud of his achievements, and with ample right to be so. He wears the smile of a happy man, but of one with something to hide. He is one of my closest cousins and, unbeknownst to him, the most respected. He is the epitome of redemption, the prodigal son.