Brother,

There is a photo of dad holding you and I after you were born, and the look on my face doesn’t exactly scream joy. I can’t tell you what I thought when I first saw you, because I don’t remember, but from that moment on, you’ve always been there.

When you got out your Lincoln Logs, you always let me build houses and forts with you. I know I was older, so maybe you didn’t feel that you were letting me, but I knew you were better at building things than I was, and if I didn’t always act it, know that I was grateful. Even when you ran your Matchbox cars through our creations and I had to painfully watch them tumble to the ground—I was grateful.

When I got out my Barbies and you quietly sat beside me and played with their pets, I was grateful. One year, all I wanted for Christmas was the Barbie Zoo. It came with fences and food and baby elephants and monkeys that fit perfectly in the plastic trees. It’s the one toy I remember receiving more than any other, because you (secretly) loved it.

We fought when we were younger. One time you took all the money out of my piggy bank and put it into yours. Another time, I told you sugar came from dandelions and watched you stuff some in your mouth and start crying because I lied. But there were also times we didn’t fight, endless days of playing school and Nintendo 64 and running around outside. There were times when you got in trouble and I didn’t think it was fair and tried to stick up for you. There were times when I got in trouble and you’d knock on my door and sit silently on my floor while I cried. And I knew in those moments that I had a real friend.

I was grateful for that. Although you graduated high school with more friends than I could count, I was quieter than you, and it took me a long time to make friends. Getting off the bus after school and working on homework with you was never something I dreaded. When you saved whole book reports for the night before they were due, I stayed up with you and handed you glue sticks and markers like it was my job. I, the girl who used to schedule out my afternoons so I could have time for homework and violin practice and reading, rolled my eyes at you, but stayed awake, because you were my friend, and I was grateful when you wanted my help, even more so when you wanted my company.

When I went to college, you sometimes met me for lunch. When you knew I was depressed, you brought me plants to keep in my room. When I came home, you were always there with funny Netflix shows, YouTube videos about science and history, and puzzles. You always helped me convince dad to give us cash for ice cream, and for all those car rides to pick it up where you played J. Cole so loud I couldn’t hear myself think, I’m grateful.

This past fall, I rode in the backseat of dad’s truck to drop you off for your first semester of college. We had spent the days before your move-in day making trips to Target and packing your clothes (and by packing I mean you threw them in boxes and I took them out, folded them, and put them back). You’re so smart and independent and easy-going, I knew you would love college. But when dad and I made the drive back home without you, it felt too long. I didn’t want to bother you so soon, but I couldn’t help it. I texted you. You answered within a minute. Dad looked over and asked who I was talking to, when I told him it was you, he started smiling. For that time, and all the times you’ve answered my texts, I’m grateful.

I couldn’t have known when you were born how much I needed you in my life. I talk about things probably three times as much as you do, but when you speak, I listen. Things like you deserve better and I just try to believe that people are generally good, and I don’t let what they say bother me are pieces of conversations I will never forget. You told me this past summer that I’m more fun than I ever was before. My high-strung, over-achiever attitude has died down a little, and it’s been replaced with the ability to relax and the desire to spend more time outside and less time at the mall.

And I gotta say, a little bit of that change you saw in me was because of you, because I grew up with a brother and a friend that always has been the embodiment of the best traits I could imagine in a person. I know you didn’t get a choice when it came to having a sister, but it was, and has always been, your choice to be my friend—and I’m grateful you’ve always chosen the way you have.

Please don’t make me watch South Park all break,

Hannah