There were some things that could never changed, no matter how hard anyone tried to alter them. Personalities were one as well as physical appearances . . . and family ties.
Family ties ran deep for him. They ran so deep they had become embedded within his soul. His parents . . . they were not really his parents. Not biologically, at least, but that had not mattered to him or to them. They loved him, and he loved them. They had been everything he could have hoped for in a mother and father.
What made them all the more precious to him was the fact they did not have to be his parents. They did not have to give him everything they had. They could have chosen another little boy to love.
But they had chosen him, he and his brother both. They had proven to him there were some things in life that were thicker than blood, and love was one of them.
For that, he would always be grateful.