Red on the Head

Someone sent me pictures of my brother yesterday. They made me cry. I haven't seen him in so long. I miss him.
I don't think I would have necessarily realized it was him if I'd met him on the street. He's like the rest of us...he's getting older. I saw new lines on his face that weren't there the last time I saw him. I wonder how many of them are because of worry about the family he hasn't seen or because of regret. Or even loneliness.
I looked into those eyes. I would have known them anywhere. They're just like mine.
But as I stared into his eyes, I saw something else...I saw what's missing. He's missing his Mama. He's missing his big sister and his baby brother. He's missing out on knowing his sister-in-law and our beautiful niece. He's missing Daddy. He's missing years of Christmases and Thanksgiving turkeys and Mama's red velvet cake. He's missing see his Mama and Daddy get older and retire, and learn to enjoy that retirement.
He's missed out on seeing his little brother get married and become a daddy, and on seeing what a great father he's become. He's missed out on another sister...our little brother's wife.
He's missing out on knowing our niece, Amanda. He's missed seeing his little brother hold his first child, a memory I'll never forget. He's missed her first steps, her first teeth, her first words, her first Christmas...on hearing her call him Uncle Greg or some other nickname...like she calls me Gigi, instead of Aunt Angye. I hope that never stops, by the way.
I've shown Amanda photos of Uncle Greg and her cousins, Matt and Terry. She's met Matt, and calls him "Cousin Matt." But when I show her photos of Greg and Terry, I don't think she gets it. That breaks my heart.
Most of all, he's missed years of being my brother. Just being my brother. And I feel cheated. I haven't gotten to be the big sister to him that I'm learning every day to be.
I realize none of us are perfect...we've all made mistakes and we all have things to say we're sorry for.
But time is slipping by...so fast.
So...like the father in the story of the Prodigal Son, I'll keep waiting by the window...watching. And I hope one day soon...very soon...I can run down that road, throw my arms around my brother, and tell him what's done is done...and welcome him home with a big hunk of Mama's red velvet cake.