A Love Letter

As I sit here and write to you Eloy, my brother, I can't help but laugh. The memories of us as children, the laughter, the fights(rare), the abuse and all of the love we shared, fill me and sometimes overwhelm me. When we met I was eight and you were six, your mother had taken you and your older and younger brother's from your dad and my father took a suitcase and his... dick. But okay, my mother survived and a new family was formed. There you all were, my step-brother's, as Mexican as I was Black, and we didn't care, most children don't. I knew from the moment I met you that we would be close and we were. Thank you to my mother who explained to all of us that there is no such thing as step or half brother and sister: "You are her brother" as she pointed at you and me "And she is your sister!" end of story. I remember only one 'bad' argument between us and I believe it was due to teenage angst more than anything. But believe me, I still find myself getting mad that you took someone else's side over MINE!? How dare you! And I know if you were here, you would find this totally hilarious. You would bring up how I didn't talk to you for two weeks, how I cried and said you never take sides against me (who am I? The Mob?!) The memories make me laugh of us cooking together, creating cleaning and eating contests for the other siblings, saving money together so that we could take the younger brothers and sisters to the movies and have pizza parties. How giving you were, even as a little kid; I remember telling you the story when I was around ten, about how my white kitten was killed by a dog. The next time I came to the house for daddy/kid(s) visit, you had a picture of a white kitten for me with your signature and "I love you," at the bottom of the portrait. I still have it by the way. I am grateful to you for sharing your secrets of abuse with me, told in whispers and a lot of hand holding. I told you some, but not all, because it was still going on, how could I? I think you already knew anyway. Just like you said to me when you came out "I know you already know Lynn, you are smarter than the average bear!" And there is that sense of humor that I loved beyond anything else. How you could and did laugh with your whole body. That fall out of the chair, hold your stomach type of laughter that siblings have when they are all together and there is always that running joke that no one else gets. I could list so many things that made you special: Your sense of style (which is one of the many reasons you loved my Mama! Both clothes hog's), you died before the term 'Metro Sexual' but boy does that fit you! Your supreme loyalty and honesty, until the end. With every death it seems comes a sense of guilt, your death is no different, we all think there was something that could have been done differently.There wasn't. That big disease with the little name took you and you went the way you wanted. Alone. So you too! Independent with a flair of the dramatic. How could I not respect that? All I could do was be mad and laugh. When I met your friends they all said how you always talked about your brother's and sister's how proud of us you were and how we all have such a sense of style; so for you we dressed to the nine's on your goodbye day, red lipstick and all. You would have loved it! I need you to know how much I love you. That I was always proud of you, that even in our disagreements the love was there. You were and always will be my Best brother and I always wished you Love and Peace, and now you have both. Peace my Eloy.