Dear Andrew

Dear Andrew,
I know it hurts to think about
the day it all went wrong
but I’m crying ‘cause I don’t know you anymore
I know I don’t see you very often
but I don’t want it to be during visitor hours
and you can’t walk me down the aisle in a bright orange jumpsuit
I know you don’t want to listen
and you just want to turn off the volume
but I want to press stop and rewind to happy days
before “the doctor” came to town
before rolling one up was the only way to cope
I promise, it will only hurt worse after time
and I’m sorry
but you need to hear this
so please don’t turn the other cheek
or act like I don’t exist
just listen to me
and if not
listen to the little girl who almost burned the house down
using the microwave to time your use of the only computer we had
listen to the little girl who sat upon your knee
while taking Christmas pictures because just oldest to youngest wasn't close enough
listen to the little girl who you taught how to serve
a 90 mph leftie serve, guaranteed an ace every time it was done right
you don’t need it; you know you don’t
what you need
what you really need
is to sit down
and let the love of your family cascade over you in waterfalls
the love of mom and megan
of dad, watching from heaven screaming “stop, we all love you!”
and of me, who way deep down,
is still that little girl, who just wants her big brother back.