Lil Bro,

I constantly think of you and apologize. I don’t feel liable; I just don’t know how to accept my lack of knowledge. ‘I’m sorry,’ my heart whispers, ‘because I never realized there would be a day when you weren’t here.’

Your birthday passed last month. Someone signed their name on a document at work and scribbled your birthday on the next line, just a date in June. But I heard your childhood voice in my head repeating the date with pride. It was your very own special day. I could hear the way you stress the long ‘u’ sound in our AAE dialect from home. The memory shattered any composure I had left.

My sobs were silent but insuppressible. I sat at my desk as tears rushed over my face. I didn’t want attention, but I’m sure my manager noticed me wiping my eyes continuously.

I always thought I would share this time with you, optimistically wrestling to become the adults we always wanted to be. I thought we would gossip and laugh over the years. I thought we would grow and learn from each other. I was an adult when you left, but losing you makes me feel as feeble and naive as a child. I never understood that your illness could be fatal. I never thought the procedure could be dangerous. I never imagined my life without knowing you. But here we are, and all three of those things are unrelentingly real. ‘I miss you. I’ve needed you all this time.’

As I looked at the document, it was unbelievable to me that you would have turned 29 years old that day. It had been seven years without you, and a part of me loathed that so much time had passed. It reminded me of all the changes since you’ve gone. How can so much have changed when it feels like just yesterday that you were here?

How do I forgive myself for my oblivious nescience all our lives? Why didn’t I realize the depth of your suffering? Why couldn’t you make it clearer to me? Why didn’t I have the words or the vocabulary to verbalize your experience? Why didn’t my mother explain what was going on with my brother? Why couldn’t I fully sympathize? ‘I’m sorry,’ my soul screams.

There’s a young guy who works with me at my job. He’s not a lot like you, but in ways, he reminds me of you and Bee when we were kids. He doesn’t always understand me when I mumble in our dialect, but we use AAE and it feels like home.

He’s not bothersome like you were toward me, but I know you annoyed me because I was your big sister. I was yours, and my attention belonged to you. He would also never be as insulting as you. In the moment your insults are insufferable, but now it’s something I miss the most. You would always come to our defense if anyone ever put us down. He’s not moody like you used to be from time to time. You and I share a certain level of disdain for obnoxious social interactions. But now I wonder if some of your moods were because of your pain…

Of course, my coworker is not you, but he makes me think of you every day. He listens to the music you’d like to hear, and he likes some clothes you’d probably wear.

He also looks at me the way you and Bee do when I do something cool, like the smartest big sister in the world.

I’m the nerdy one, the studious sister. I’m blind sometimes to the things you’re engrossed in. But you and Bee look up to me. You’re proud of me for getting good grades and graduating college. You’re proud of me for traveling the world and learning new languages. You’d probably commend me today if you saw the program I built in Excel for work using complex formulas and macro automation. My coworker loves it.

I wish you were here to see it too, to visit me and see the city, to listen to my goals and dreams. And I would encourage you in yours.

But even if you’re not here, I will live with all my heart like you are. I won’t only be the sister you needed, but I will be a sister to anyone who needs it.

We were together from the beginning, and you always believed in me. You were my first fan. You never judged me or wanted me to change. You always welcomed me with a hug and a smile. To anyone in my life, I will encourage, support, and strengthen them like a true sister should. Thank you for being my childhood little brother.