Dave

Mom says that when I was young, I used to pray for a little brother. Apparently, I wanted a black brother, which I didn't get, but you were close enough. Since we were both adopted, you look nothing like me. You have dark hair and big brown eyes and olive skin and people probably wonder how in the hell we're siblings. I guess you were close enough to black to please me. :) I was so excited to have a brother. I remember picking you up from the hospital. I remember, at five years old, being in awe of your tiny-ness. From that moment onward, I toted you around everywhere. You were the typical little brother. We played the greatest games. Do you remember moving to Bellevue and playing "traffic jam", where we lined up all of our toy cars in the living room? Do you remember when I would stick up for you at recess when someone was bothering you? You were the cutest, silliest, funniest kid in the entire world. Your big puppy dog eyes and chubby cheeks made grown ups swoon. I was so proud of you. And then I got older, and I turned into a horrific teenager and you annoyed me constantly and we fought like cats and dogs. I threw a fork at your forehead. We chased each other around with kitchen knives when Mom and Dad weren't home. You were the nagging little brother and I forgot how much we enjoyed each other when I was a kid. I'm glad we've mended those fences now. I made it through adolescence, and so did you. Now, you're the cool uncle who buys my kids the most expensive gifts. You are still childlike and they love that about you. You have the most awesome DVD collection I've ever seen. You love baseball more than anyone in the entire world. You've become a cool adult, and I'm still proud of you.

Love, Rae