Found this photo of me and my late oldest brother sometime before he moved to Japan, where he lived and worked until a few years before he passed not that long ago. He remained a humble, moral, committed, spiritual, good Franciscan friar to the end. It wasn't until I was older and went through my own "spiritual growth" that we came to be as close as you would want to be to a sibling you loved.
He was a beacon to me through all my wayward years, never judging me, at least not to me, always praising my attempts to help create a world with more love and kindness, tolerance and fairness. I miss him, as I do all my siblings who have passed. Which is reassuring, because I couldn't wait to get away from them when I was a rebellious teenager. Isn't life a beautiful mystery?