My brother is still living, so I do not yet regret the times I was less than good to him. I will, and I know I will, but there isn’t any road to that for me yet. It might happen over years. We’ll both go gray in our beards and begin to lose the things that marked us as young. I can prepare, in due time, my long list of apologies for those things I cannot carry with me after he’s gone. There will be a discussion of the weight to these things—the things we keep inside ourselves when we lose someone close to us with whom we used to share a knowledge and history.
