1986

Not long ago, I learned your full name. I had always known of your existence, but at home, there are few traces of you.

You might think it’s strange, but you know it wasn’t easy for them to cope with your absence. Sometimes I wonder what this family would have been like if you hadn’t left, what it would feel like to have an older brother. I think about all the things we might have shared: the laughter, the fights, the parties, the stories and experiences.

When I began exploring spirituality, I understood that the body has a beginning and an end, but the soul is eternal. So at night, I sometimes speak to you, hoping you hear me, hoping you feel my words.

They say we all have a path laid out for us, a kind of destiny. And you were such an evolved being that there was little this life could teach you. It took me time to grasp that. There were days I felt like a replacement, like my identity was tangled with yours, like I wasn’t enough.

It’s taken me years to claim my presence and carve out a place in this world. It’s not your fault, we were given this story without knowing it. And from a place of love, I confess I’ve felt deep fear, deep anger. But I trust there’s something greater that tests us so we can grow, so we can be happy. That’s the ultimate purpose of all this. Some leave early, others take longer, but one day we’ll all return to that beautiful place.

For now, I send you a kiss. I love you.