Dear Aaron,

The Saturday before you left, we ran into you down the street. Hunter beat me out of the car and hugged you first. After anxiously waiting my turn, I threw my arms around you and asked for your new address. You informed me that your mom was passing it out to the ladies in the neighborhood. That my mom should have it soon and I could get it from her. I made a promise that I was going to write to you while you were away. These past few weeks have been extremely difficult, but I’m not one to go back on my word.

I couldn’t tell you what it was like when we first met. What we were wearing. What words were exchanged. What day of the week it was or what the weather was like. But since then it’s always been a natural instinct to refer to you as an older brother. It was something I never had to think about, it would just flow. A peaceful, easy feeling. But now, looking back at our time spent together you really were my big brother. I laughed with you. I confided in you. I cried with you. I learned from you. You took care of me the way an older brother is supposed to.

I have so many wonderful memories of you. Remember when I was in seventh grade and hit my head on the kitchen table? You and Hunter were in the basement, but came rushing upstairs because you knew it didn’t sound like a typical Hanna fall. Or when you and the guys were eighth graders wearing empty soda boxes on your heads pretending to be knights? You wore them right into the movie theater with no shame. Remember when everyone used to play hide and seek in complete darkness? I was terrified, but you went out of your way cracking jokes to make sure I was having fun. “Pale ninja!” Or when we spent that wild and crazy week at Lake Gaston? You were the first one to jump off the high dock with absolutely no fear, everyone followed after. Remember the first time your mom came with us to watch you and Hunter play in your summer lacrosse league? That just so happened to be the day that all hell broke loose on the field. Gloves came off, fists were flying, and we were right in the line of fire. You should have seen the look on your mom’s face! Or freshman year when I didn’t have a twin during spirit week, and you decided to be my twin so I wouldn’t feel left out? We even dragged Hunter into it and became a trio. Remember when we were hanging out last summer and a friend made a drink that you knew wasn't right for me? I didn't see it, but you did, and you had my back. You dumped it out and fixed me a new one.

You would come over to hang out with Hunter but you would find me instead. The two of us would spend hours talking about anything and everything before realizing Hunter wasn’t even around. You picked us up on the way to the bus stop, you taught me how to twerk, you helped out with chores just so they would get finished faster and we could hang out longer. You wore orange to watch Clemson games with us and even cheered just as loud as we did. You ate. A lot. You were the referee of some intense sibling fights. You celebrated significant milestones with us. We spent holidays, block parties, and family vacations together.

You have taught me so many important lessons without even knowing it. That sometimes things don’t go the way you expect them to. Instead of feeling discouraged you need to dust yourself off and figure out a new plan. That keeping an open mind will carry you places you never imagined yourself going. That it’s important to bring happiness everywhere you go. Sometimes people just need a laugh, a hug, an open ear, and it’s important to be there for them. To keep in touch with your inner child because growing up doesn’t have to be boring. That once you find your true calling, pursue it until your dreams become reality. That family doesn’t have to be blood related, but they do always come first.

You lived an incredible life in twenty-one years. You made people smile simply by looking at them. Your laugh was contagious. Your stories captured everyone’s attention. You had a positive impact on each person you met. To you, everyone was family, and I’m glad I got to be a part of that. You will always be my older brother. I love you Aaron Redd and I can’t wait to see you again.

I got this.

Love,

Hanna