“You are beautiful my sweet, sweet song”
I used to sing to him as I rocked him to sleep. His eyelids would start to get heavy, and eventually, he wouldn’t be able to fight it any longer. He had the biggest cheeks. Rolls in his thighs. The center of my universe, he was the reason I got out of bed in the morning.
God gave me the amazing gift of a little brother at just the right time. A time when life was difficult and the future bleak. A time when it was a struggle to find happiness. But then this little boy… this little boy came into the world. He would laugh, and suddenly everything was right. Everything was going to be ok.
He’s almost 15 now. Taller than me. So intelligent, witty, and so full of life. It’s hard to remember the days when I was able to carry him. When we would push him around the house in a laundry basket while he giggled and squealed. When he fell asleep in my bed with chocolate milk running from the part in his lips. When he used to hold my hand.
His future is blindingly bright. He’s so talented and dedicated that sometimes I wonder where it all came from. As I watch him grow, I hope and pray that he knows without a shadow of a doubt how amazing he is. That he was created for a purpose. That he reaches beyond the stars and pursues his wildest dreams. I hope he never doubts himself or questions his worth.
The world is a frightening place. Brutal, even. It tears people apart piece by piece until they don’t know who they are anymore. I pray my brother has the strength to fight. That he will be able to stand firm in his identity as a child of God, and know the voices of truth from the lies.
I hope he knows, really knows, the depth of our love for him. The depth of God’s love for him. I hope he feels so deeply cared for that it penetrates his bones. I hope he knows that he’ll never be alone.
I hope for him. I just hope.