Dear Caleb {10 years}

Today was hard…
And not just because it’s the shortest day of the year.

I know I talk a good bit about light and how important it is for all of our functions… but that’s not limited to the light from the sun. Some people are full of light, too.

It’s been 10 years since my brother passed. The world has definitely been a measure dimmer since then. The stories we told at his funeral… the things that continue to remind us of him… they can all be categorized as joy-inducing, silly, thoughtful, nurturing, loving, creative, and kind.

He manufactured light and he shared it with the rest of us.

He was the puppiest-person I’ve ever known.

And for those who remember “Picasso’s Hand,” that’s why there’s a tiny hand print in each of my paintings…

He left the world a little better for having been a part of it. My hope is that I will be able to say the same.

He was 29.

A letter I wrote to my little brother earlier this year, on his birthday: 5-18-2019

Dear Caleb,

When your light went out, I felt the world get darker. You gave us everything you had. What I failed to notice at the time were how many lights you’d turned on in others. Your flame lit the little candles carried by other people who didn’t even know what those wicks were for.

I thought your flame had been extinguished, but you had only spread it around, to one-day become an enormous bonfire.

I see you everywhere…

When I see someone discover that they can create, when I find a neighborhood that celebrates creativity and community, when I see affection between friends, or songs being made up on the spot, when I see chosen-families loving-on and supporting each other, when I see silliness celebrated for the simple joy it brings, when I sit and have a quiet cup of coffee, when I’m inspired to create or try something new, every single time I have the opportunity to celebrate or encourage — or even witness the celebration or encouragement of — someone’s truth, expression, or joy, which would typically be shamed… this is how we nurture the world, and you taught us so much about this.

You showed us how to love each other better

*** * ***

I know that not everyone could see this. And sometimes, you couldn’t see this either. I know there were those who not only wished, but demanded and berated you to bottle up everything about you, everything that made them feel things, or think… you were told to blend-in and be quiet.

I know that hurt.

And I know you tried to comply — to a degree.

This left scars that were never quite healed.

I’m also so incredibly proud of you for outgrowing that tiny little space you were told to occupy.

* * *

Every time I create something, you’re the first person I want to show it to — knowing you’d be just as excited about it as I am. You were always such a great partner-in-crime, which continually reminds me to surround myself with those who are supportive, encouraging, and are genuinely full of joy on my behalf.

We hold each other up.