I have six brothers. Fortunately, I am older than most of them... survival might not have been possible if I had been around for too many years of their... ummm... wit?
Only one brother was older. The first-born. Named for our father.
I adored him when we were kids. His love of reading kindled curiosity in me, and because of his example, I learned the joy of losing myself in a book.
But life marches on. He went to college, then to Viet Nam. I moved away, married and had a houseful of kids.
Distance settled between us... until the last year of his life. We ended up living in the same town, and when cancer took its toll on his independence, I became his ever present helper. Fifteen years ago today, we gathered around my dining room table and celebrated his final birthday.
I'm thankful for those last months, weeks, days. I regained the brother that I knew as a child. Precious times indeed.
Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another. I John 4:11