I rarely talk about my little brother because I’m overly protective of him.

I feel like if I make the world notice him, it might try to steal away his goodness. My siblings are so precious to me that I sometimes hide them in my speech, just like I planned for each to leave to a safer world and lives. I find myself worrying about how what I share would hurt them.

Most of my siblings call me mother. No other title has ever given me such joy and such fear. It is never easy to be a mother, especially when you have had a life like mine.

My little brother is the source of my pride. He is so sweet and gentle. Honest, true to himself and brave. I often get scared life will rob him of that kindness. It is hard not to think it watching how ruthless many men become in the face of adversity. Watching even my inner workings as a woman and how I detach to survive .

He’s not like me at all. He is incredibly thoughtful, always respectful, and intelligent too. This year, he began his seperate life, living alone and studying applied mathematics. I am proud of him. But also I have wished for my siblings to always be together. There is much strength in groups. I respect his choices and I support them regardless.

Even at his age, he still cares for my opinions and insights. He regularly refers to me . He does it in such sweet way that it never feels burdening.

I am blessed that I have the family that I do. I love them so much.