To My Brother, Ian, On Your Birthday

Dear Ian,

You would be 39 years old today. I am 44. I’ve been without you for 36 years of my life and was only with you for eight. And yet somehow, it’s you who feels like you have been by my side every step of the way. You who has stayed beside me the longest, who has watched over me through every step of my journey, who has guided me through my darkest days, celebrated with me through every win, carried me through my hardest hours, and who I have trusted and looked to for hope when I have felt the most lost and alone. It’s you who I have turned to time and again when I’ve needed a friend, a mentor, a place to turn when I didn’t know where else to go. Over the past 36 years, whenever I haven’t had the answers, I’ve always felt like I could ask you.

Family of six

As I sit here writing this letter to you, I am a sobbing mess. Yet most days, when I think of you, talk about you, remember you, I don’t cry. I think of your smiling face. I think happy thoughts. I think of two children having pillow fights, sharing a bed at night, taking baths together, and dancing in your bedroom before bed. I think of visiting you in the hospital, bringing you flowers and balloons. I think of innocence. I don’t think of sadness, or sorrow, or pain. I only think of love. Even after all these years, I still don’t have the words for how much I love you.

Today, though, on your birthday, I let myself be sad for a few moments because I think about how much I miss having you here. I love that you have always been such a strong, felt presence in my life, and that somehow I’ve never really felt like you were gone.

But, still, I miss THAT you. I miss your hugs and your chubby hands and your innocence and your joy. I miss the sound of your laughter and I miss having my brother. I wish I still had you here to hug and cuddle and love, in person. I wish, at times, that we still had time together. You were such a joy, Ian. You were such a loving, special baby and you were my very first best friend.

You are still my first best friend, Ian. And part of these sobs come from knowing how lucky I am to have had you as my brother then, when we were children, and to still have you as my brother today, looking out for me always. Today is a day to remember you. Today is a day to let you know that I will never forget how much love we shared, how special our bond was, and how special you are and always will be to me. Today is a day to remember to treat people well, to love them well, and to remember that, in the end, the love we have for each other is all that really matters.

I love you forever, Ian.

Love,

Your big sister,
Jill