If I could write him a letter...

Dear Mike,
Wow. It is amazing how fast a year can fly by now that I am old. And this year has flown by, filled with lots of events to mark it, the most difficult being your death. You know, why does it take death to make us realize what we had? I knew you were a great brother. There was much we missed out on being so far apart in age(8 years), but there was so much we had, some because we were so far apart in age.

In all of my memories with you, you never once made fun of me or made me feel stupid, set yourself up over me. You just weren't like that. You were kind to everyone. Now you might have voiced your frustration later, that you weren't seeing eye-to-eye with someone, or me, but you were respectful and patient face to face. I so appreciate that about you - not as aware when you were here, but now I see it so clearly. Why is that? I hate it.

I remember so many crazy things - like the time you and your friends set up your strobe light in the window of your room. It was dark and you were babysitting me. I had a friend over as well. We kept coming outside to bug y'all, so you told us the light was aliens coming. My friend and I ran next door and stayed there until mom came home, but you didn't know we had left, so I think you got in a bit of trouble that night. Sorry. But it makes for great memories.

I remember you talking me into riding the Greased Lightning at Astroworld when I was 13 or so. I hated roller coasters, and still do, but for that day, I rode and rode with you, and then I never rode again. And the time Mom took us to Disneyworld and you stood in that store and begged and begged her to get you the singing Micky Mouse watch until she finally bought so you would just stop. You knew what you were doing. You were 21. And you got your watch. I wish I had that watch. When Mom asked if there was anything of yours I wanted, I said, "the Mickey Mouse watch, if it's still around." But they couldn't find it, so Michael gave me a Tigger watch he found in your things - a replacement we figured for the lost Mickey.

We alone shared some pretty difficult experiences. A dad who couldn't be bothered with us anymore if we weren't going to relate on his egotistic terms. Mom's accident - I will never forget your face as you said, "I see her as I found her every night and it's terrifying." That was so hard on you and one of the many things I don't think you ever got over.

We shared some great experiences - the family vacations to South Padre, Thanksgivings and all the relatives at the house, being there for each other's weddings - you telling me that you don't know whether to hug John or hit him and also telling me I better not have any babies because he knows how that happens and I better not be doing that and neither better John.

You came to the adoption hearing with Mom and Marion, for Colton and Miranda. I love that you were there.

I remember the dream I had on your birthday last year - vividly. Which is weird. It is the most vivid ad piercing dream I have ever had and it still brings me to sobs. It is a gift, because it was so real and true to you and us and our relationship. So I count it as a gift - but it is a sad, sweet gift.

So I remember all of this life we shared and wish we had shared more. Isn't that the way. I wish you were here to see your kids - such great kids. Christina is just amazing, amazing heart, amazing depth - God is taking everything she went through and using it as power to move the Gospel among people who might not otherwise be given the time of day. Michael is in college, sophomore year and leaning towards studying Economics. They miss you. They ask me questions about you and I love to share with them what I knew. But it's hard. Sometimes we don't talk about you because it's just hard to let the grief come that far to the front that day. Some days we can, some days we can't. It's hard to know each day. But Christina is the best about opening up - and it's soothing to talk with her. She really misses you so much.

I so wish we had been able to spend more time together. But I know that we didn't think we had anything but all the time in the world. I miss you. Mom misses you. Your kids and family miss you. My kids miss you. Death sucks and it's not the way it's supposed to be.

But here we are. So while you rest in the arms of Jesus - a rest I am so glad that you have now - we will press on, remembering our time with you, our lives intertwined, and who you will always be to each of us.

To me, you are my brother - and I am the only one who will ever have the privilege of calling you that.

I love you Mike, and miss you.
Your sister,
Heather