Two years since I lost my brother. I think about him every day, and words cannot convey just how much the grief of losing him has reconfigured me but also refined me. Every morning I wake up and feel so lucky to be here for another day because life is so beautiful. Time is our most precious gift. I feel the loss of him eternally but also endless gratitude that God (or whatever you believe in) gave me a big brother for three decades of my life. I wish I could’ve had more time, but some people don’t get that much. And some people don’t have brothers at all, especially one like mine. Ryan was literally a teacher. He was brilliant and the rare type of person who is profoundly aware of the world and stirred by its injustices. What I found most striking in the days leading up to his funeral was just how many people he helped who spoke to my family about it. You just don’t know how many lives you touch sometimes, and my brother had this sad habit of always downplaying his value. I was happy to see him in my dreams the other day. It isn’t all too often he appears, but he was there, playing the voice of reason/wisdom role he so often did when he was here. He felt so alive; I didn’t think for a second about the possibility of losing him. Then I woke up and remembered he was gone. I didn’t feel a sting though, just joy to have seen him, living in my dreams and helping me. Just peace. But that’s how it is in real life too: His spirit follows me everywhere. All the lessons he taught me live on in me. I just try to do good and make him proud. To show people kindness and gentleness, to make them feel heard. The world is pretty crazy right now, Ryan. I miss you, but I’m glad your spirit gets to rest. These are hard, scary times, and I know you’d have trouble being hopeful. I’ll keep being strong for you. Thank you everyone for your kindness today and every day. 💙