Your biggest brother asks me every morning about my dreams. He would have and still does, love you fiercely. At first I was hesitant to share my dreams with him, but I think sometimes he dreams of you too.
On bad nights I dream of a dozen graves surrounding yours, siblings that suddenly grew still. On good nights I dream you are still moving inside me, dancing like your brothers did to certain songs and voices. I dream of you every night.
He tells me his dreams, and sandwiched between Sasquatch destroying his swing set and aliens landing in the field, he dreams of you being here, snuggled in our laps, dressed in the clothes he so gingerly chose for you. He dreams of you watching him play football, and growing to play soccer, and roasting marshmallows at the fire pit in the woods.
You fill a million dreams and I am so thankful that we can be with you there.
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