It has been almost a year since we lost you. 

Sometimes I think about that Thanksgiving in 97, when I came home from college and worked at that shitty German restaurant with Katie. You guys had Thanksgiving dinner without me, and by the time I got home I was exhausted. Who knew so many old people liked eating out on Thanksgiving? Anyway, everyone else was in bed, but you waited up for me. I immediately threw myself on the couch, and within a few minutes you had appeared with a plate of food. Then you sat with me and we watched a movie. 

Sometimes the smallest gestures make the biggest impact. Your gesture meant so very much and the selflessness and genuine sweetness behind it nearly broke my heart. You were such a sweet boy. It always sort of amazed me. How does something so sweet and pure develop out of a pile of shit? How did it never break your spirit? Or did I maybe just not see it because I was fighting my own demons? I’m sorry if I failed you. 

I miss you, and I love you. I just wanted you to know.