Hey, little brother.

                      
Hey remember that time we used to have braids and competed to see who had the longest hair. How about when mom would say stop arguing and we would both try to get the last word. And there were those times in the car when our elbows would have a battle of death just so see who could get their elbow on top of the others. Even though we had our feuds we could always drop it. I’m sure most of the time we forgot what we were arguing about. Those were good times. You were always interesting to me. I noticed that your mind work differently and I would sometimes look at you with admiration and say to myself, wow, this is my little brother; without a doubt he is going to be great!” I think I always had a good sense of awareness, but unfortunately not even I could predict how things would be today.

05/04/09. I am sure that date is burned into your skull; the day you unconsciously altered your habits, friends, and even your walk; the day your dad was taken from you. That was the day you walked into reality when I was still afraid to open those doors, and things only continued to change, and I watched, unwilling to say anything; too afraid to walk on the same plane as you; we stopped “arguing.”

When you got to high school, things got worse. I remember when they start comparing you to me. I know it got under your skin before it pulled at mine.

People would ask me what’s wrong with your brother? And each time my answer would be the same: nothing. Nothing is wrong with my little brother! He may have taken some twist and turns, but please don’t ask me what’s wrong as if I am evaluating a machine with an error. You see, my brother is human, so yes he has made mistakes, but please don’t act like you are perfect.

I recall the moment mom told me that you were in jail. I can’t remember exactly how I felt because I wanted it all to be a lie. I didn’t want to feel that I was wrong about my brother who, to me, was clearly meant to be great.

Mom asked me to write you a letter, but if I did that then I would have to face the reality that you are in jail, and maybe it is time for me to face that reality, time to step on the same plane as you and hone my ears on to the frequency that only brothers share, maybe it is time that we had a talk.

You know brother, there’s this question I’ve been wanting to ask you, but I have always been afraid of the answer. Afraid that your eyes would say something other than what your mouth said. Afraid that your body language would reveal an unknown code that my eyes would regret deciphering, and upon deciphering that forbidden code it would pierce through my heart leaving a scar that not even time could heal, afraid that your situation is partly my fault and that I could have done something about it.  Brother, I’ve been afraid to ask you because I feel that I was average at best at filling the role that was given to me the first day you were born. Brother, was I a good big brother? Am I a good big brother? I’ve always wanted to know your views, and I am sure that you have been waiting to hear mine about you, so I guess I’ll go first

You have changed. I can see every muscle that now bends in a different way and every drop in your voice when your friends come by. You have changed, on the outside, but you can’t hide the sadness in your eyes and the pain that it takes to maintain those bends, but when you are ready to clear those eye, I know that you will finally see the limitless world that awaits you;

Brother, I have never given up on you because I still hold on to those thoughts and memories, and even to this day, when I see pictures of you, I say to myself, “wow, this is my little brother; without a doubt, he is going to be great.”