Dear Littlest Brother,

Love is a connection, and its got branches and roots like a tree. You are one of my loves, and I hold you close indeed. It's bad to say you've got a favorite sibling, but I just love you differently. We all do. We love you because we almost lost you. I'll still remember the frown on your face and the colors green and blue. You didn't like it when people took pictures, and you had just turned two. In that moment, I never would have guessed that in the days following you would be diagnosed with a great monster: cancer. We got past the cancer in the end, and that's what matters. You're loud and noisy, but it's because of your hearing. It didn't just kill the cancer, the chemotherapy. It took your teeth and your ears, but I will listen for you. Don't believe what the kids said at school. If a pink or purple lunchbox makes you happy, then just ignore them. They're only temporary. What isn't temporary is how much I love you. Love holds the whip that lashes every time I think about how you have changed me. Love is what nearly drove me insane and brought me back when you were sick. Love is the pillow I slept on damp with tears. Love is the scars you have that don't matter to you or me. I love you, and I'm so happy you're one of the branches to my tree.