Some notes to my brother, who has moved away

Kyle,

You should know the house is very much the same and also completely different. Without you that is. Your room is empty, the bathroom is bare. Without you here, the house lacks the smell of lavender epsom salt or the sound of someone roller skating upstairs in your room. Your laughter does not echo every so often from your room with the door closed. I do not hear your loud footsteps thumping down the stairs at odd hours.
For the first time in a long time that room is empty, the curtains are gone and so the light comes in still hot even though summer is ending. There is no sound of the fish tank bubbling. The freezer is bare of french fries and vegetarian chicken nuggets. Your fingerprints are gone, in a way but the footprint still remains.
Thats the funny thing about home, even though your stuff moves out-you don’t. Your ghost still roams the halls. You of all ages along with all of us- Mackenzie and I. Carving pumpkins and coming down the stairs for Christmas. Turning the lights on and off and climbing things we shouldn’t. Hugging Sophie and Max andMomMom and Grandma and Pop. Waving to friends as they come in the door, saying goodbye as they rush out on their way home before school starts tomorrow. Uniforms and arguments. Ravens games and trivia games. Old girlfriends and final papers. Prom and New Years. Playing guitar and starting the coffee machine early. All of the moments that happened here for you, all of the yous that lived here with all of the us’s that roam around these four walls. We all get to be here together no matter how many years pass by. Or how old we get. How lucky are we.
I guess what I’m trying to say is: you can always come home. Because in someways-you never left. None of us have. I hope that brings your comfort. It does for me.