Life Lasts a Little

Eighteen months old, I still a young baby carried around by my mother.

A little person came to my life, my one and only brother;

a newborn baby crying and drooling in our mother’s arms.

This little bundle of love with brown marbles for eyes was the only other brother

I'd be blessed with. He grew to a toddler and gave life to the family just as he had been given. Entertaining us all with his adorable laugh and playing peekaboo with our mother. But one day he was taken, death filled his lungs as much as that canal water.

The little light of the family

gone, ousted out by death's cold, lifeless breath. In my mother plunged into the

water that was as dark as night to rescue her youngest son.

Saved by the grace of God; the light was restored and celebrated.

Then comes the first days of school,

just five years old him and I walked to the church school behind our house.

Everyday it was my little brother and I, my friend, my little follower.

We'd walk those couple minutes in silence,

but I truly enjoyed them. Through the tall grass and weeds,

lunchboxes in hand and book bags on our backs.

Through life, we grow, and out of kindergarten he grew; into primary school he went.

Crayons and toys, gaps in between his teeth and adorable pieces of school art. Glitter paint paintings,

Time flew by like I've never know it have.

I watched him grow right before my eyes, my little brother becoming a little man.

But the clock ticks on and on,

stopping for none. Out of primary school into middle school.

My brother is becoming a young man, his voice deepens and cracks,

he starts becoming his own man.

As we grow older, wiser, we love each other more as we learn more about life and each other. We still fight over stupid little things like who gets to ride shotgun, but life lasts only a little,

but brotherly love lasts longer;