Two brothers. One date. One born--one died.
To the one who lives, God bless you. Your steadfastness in pressing forward, engaging in a good work is an inspiration. You have in your life: badgered me, annoyed me, praised me, allowed me to wear your t-shirts (a great privilege, I know), pushed my buttons, and tried to make me into a better person (etcetera, etcetera, and so forth). In watching you, I have seen what it is to be never-wavering, to be patient, and to persevere despite overwhelming odds. I love you more than I can possibly express.
To the one who died, God bless us all. The hole left in our hearts and lives through your absence, though softened by time, is a reminder that this life is short, and we are all in the hands of the Master. It is a reminder that Jesus Christ is a master craftsman who specializes in mending broken hearts. It is a reminder that because of and through His atonement, all good things are possible. Like one day, putting our arms around each other again. I miss you, but I am grateful for the sometimes still-sharp edges of the hole you left. It makes me remember what is important and what is not. I love you, little brother.
