I miss you. Every time I pray, I ask G-d to say hi to you for me. Have you heard? Are my messages getting to you? I hope so.
I wish there had been more time-- That you got to meet this version of me. The version that I didn't even know I had to hide from you because I didn't have the words back then or the bravery to tell myself.
Did you know you taught me how to be brave? Back in '99 just before the world had its Christian birthday of two millennia and before John and Rae and Nana died but after Gordon left us and some time before my molars grew in.
I couldn't sleep in that house with Mom and Dad at the movies. But you sat with me and told me stories of deserts and mountains of caves and tropical storms. You told me about your adventures until I drifted off-- Your voice lulling me into dreams of battling latent fears and throwing them to the wind.
And then, You left me, too.
And I never got to tell you. And maybe that's why I'm trying to be brave like you, So that doesn't happen again.