I miss...

...my brother.

I hate the thought that the next time I go home he won't be coming to my mother's house to see me like he always did.

I regret that I didn't have regular communication with him.

I regret that I did not encourage him more.

I regret that he did not know that I had just begun praying regularly for him and that I was FOR him.

I hate that we have to get through this year of "firsts" without him - first birthday since his death, first Christmas...etc.

I hate that I can't tell him about Machu Picchu and show him my pictures. He would have thought it was cool.

I hate that I can't ask him what he thought about the Speed Racer movie (he used to make me watch the cartoon with him before I could watch my show), or Indiana Jones, or Prince Caspian.

I wish that I had more time with him.

Isn't that always the way it is.