I dream of my brother. I can see flashes of Paul playing his guitar. It’s a foggy, hazy dream, but I can see him. He looks up from his guitar and places his palms on the strings...this time, he stops playing. He looks up at me with a huge, warm grin. I know he wants to say something. I know it. His dimples appear on each cheek, and a tear falls down my big brother’s face.
