"I love you a million"

My brother was my constant and adored companion growing up. Yes, we annoyed each other occasionally, but what I remember most is cuddling by the heater for morning cartoons, playing in our huge Boxelder tree, swinging our stuffed animals from ropes in the cabin of our 25-foot sailboat, and counting on each other for most everything.

Though he's younger than I am, he protected me. And I, him.

For a few years, we lived together in Atlanta as adults, (at least by legal definition, not sure 20 is so adult really.)

Now, we see each other once a year. That's a sad thing for me, but we make the most of it.

Sandy's entourage includes Jess, his gorgeous wife, and Lex and Shilo, their little people.

Really, our times together are part getting-to-know you, particularly with the little ones as they don't see each other - or us - enough to feel completely comfortable or familiar.

Or maybe not. The kids are starting to get old enough to remember past visits, and each other.

On our first night together after a hot round of walkie-talkie adventuring, Lex clicked on his 'talk' button and said to me, "I love you a million."

Me too, little friend. If you only knew how much.