To my brother’s future wife,

December 2, 2017.

I just caught up with sleep. Kahapon, I had none. My brother was wailing in pain all night – something inside his arm was twisting.  I watched over him all night, his face writhing in pain.  I messaged anybody I knew who had anything to do with the medical field and bothered just about everybody.  I’m so sorry guys. I didn’t know what to do.

While I was sitting there, in the three a.m. dark, I thought about the past twenty-one years. The good and the bad years. The recent bad years.  How I spent similar nights awake beside him, how as he slept soundly I was choking back tears because I was fighting to snatch him out of Satan’s hands. How I prayed for the new mornings that seemed to never come.

But they came. Because God is good like that. He redeems the bad scripts and rewrites them and they are so, so good.

I’ve been thinking about you, you know. Whoever you are. Wherever you may be. I feel my heart constrict and shrink with worry – will you stay up all night for Jerry, too? Will you skip an exam you studied all night for, just to make sure he stays okay? Will you bring him to the hospital, behind mommy’s back, because mommy doesn’t like hospitals? I know you will. You probably will. You’ll agree to a ring and an oath that said in sickness and in health. I’ve been praying for you, and I am sure God had prepared you for all of the future days. Made you weather-proof. Made you firm for when past grievances come knocking again. Resilient when storms rattle the windows.

It’s my job to take care of my brother. In a few years, it would be yours. I hope you see in him all the things I see, and more. I hope you forgive and trust and love without abandon, most especially when it’s hard.

You’ll have his heart one day. Please take care of it. It used to beat with mine when we were in my mother’s womb, a soft percussion; the beginning of music otherwise known as life, as brotherhood, as him and as me.

 

5 thoughts on “To my brother’s future wife,

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