My big brother

           I saw him. Jarod. My big brother. My whole life has centered around him, our parents longing, searching, crying, fleeing, all for him, but I have never once seen him, until today. Funny. I have always thought of him as a little boy, the little boy in Mom’s picture, with the big dark eyes. But he’s a man, a tall man, with a strong, vital face. Only the eyes are the same. I would recognize the eyes anywhere. And yet they’re not the same. I have never seen such hurt eyes. They haunt me, possess me. Jarod. My big brother.