My older brother, my rock. The athletic one, the businessman, the strong, and smart one. Tall and skinny, an envy to many, he walks through life with the just the right amount of confidence. In many ways, I have looked up to him for my whole life. He is witty, a people person. A magician with words. He pulls ideas out of his head and spins them like a web. He works his way around a mess with such ease and grace, you’d think that he's a dancer. He lives in the eye of a hurricane. Disaster and chaos twirling around him, but where he goes, a calmness follows. When he leaves, and before he arrives, is when the rain hits, the wind starts beating against your skin, bringing tears to your face with the harshness of the truth when he reveals it to you. He is a closed book, lock thrown away, and not to be searched for. With questions, come no answers when he is involved. I see my mother's hair turning grey, and her eyes growing old as she sits, waits, tries to be a part of his life.