Today I went to the hospital with my mom to visit her brother, my uncle Byron. He took a bad turn recently but is doing better; he got moved out of MICU while we were there.
As we were walking through the hospital on the way out, I thought of a passing remark my mom had made earlier about her two brothers. It reminded me that my one brother is at home with God now, and it will presumably be 60 years or so until I see him again. I thought about everything my mom and aunt have done for uncle Byron -- they've raised cain at UAB when needed and been there with him through everything since he was diagnosed -- and how I and my sisters would've done the same for Joseph if he was here and sick.
It was one of the many times I very much wished I could talk to my brother. I was eight when he died; I hope I've become a person he's proud to look down on and call his little sister. Sometimes I wonder. But I know I'm proud to call him my big brother.

Lord, come back soon.