A Toast to My Little Brother

Today is the second anniversary of the passing of my younger brother, John. This photo was taken by John's wife on the New Year's Eve right before we lost him.

Cancer.

For all of the ways he could have acted, and all of the things he could have said, John chose to be courageous. He would be unable to get himself out of bed because he was tired and sore, but would tell me to grab his hand and help him up so he could go for a walk, and get away from "all of these depressing people."

Every time his main cancer doctor would give him the latest bad news, John would just laugh and grab his wife, Schelli, and their daughter, Kherington, and go for a long drive together, as a family. All he ever really wanted in life was his own family and a pickup to go for drives with them.

Cancer is evil. And cruel. It picks on people you love. And sometimes there is nothing you can do about it.

But when you already know how it ends, you get to see people's true colors. And this big brother saw the courage of a little brother that became more of a man than I could ever be.

I still reach for my phone sometimes, thinking that it would be nice to hear his voice. When you lose some you love -- someone you love a lot, it never really gets easier.

But because it was one of his favorite things to do, I'm going to grab a bottle of Coke and go for a drive in the mountains today. Coke from a GLASS bottle was the only way he'd have it. A toast to my little brother.