Soon, The Youngest

Today marks six years since Jackson's death.

His little brothers may never have met him in person, but they've grown up with Jackson all around them — his name banner draped on the wall, his little blue ceramic handprint stuck by the window, his photos hanging above the mantle.

Owen's old enough to ask questions; old enough to share his thoughts. "I'm sad I never got to meet Jackson". "If I died, I would miss you". "Everybody in the whole city will die some day."

Mateo doesn't seem to know yet - but sometimes he points to photos of Jackson, says his attempt at Owen's name ("Ay yah"), and when I say "that's Brother Jackson", he furrows his little brow at me, and looks back at the photo, curious.

—

When Jackson died, we'd only been living here for a few weeks. Much of our stuff was still in boxes — but most of what we'd gotten out at that point was Jackson's. His toy kitchen, his little mop-and-broom, his bouncy zebra, his books and stuffed animals. He'd been running around the house covering mirrors with tiny handprints and lip-marks from kissing his reflection.

We left for a few weeks to my parents' house nearby, and tried to figure out how we'd return. One choice we made: we were paralyzed by the thought of ever having to wipe-away those smudged mirrors, even if by accident or time itself. We asked our family to clean them, so we could move back in without feeling like we were living in a museum.

Natalia saved so many of Jackson's things — toys, books, and above all, clothes. We didn't know when we'd have more kids, but we knew we'd want to at some point - and when we did, we'd want to have some of those things for them.

It has been a lovely thing to see Owen and Mateo wearing Jackson's things — those shirts, those sweatpants, that fancy-looking tan coat with the buttons. The backpack Jackson got for his second birthday has become Owen's daily backpack. The crib where Jackson lived and died has held his sleeping brothers.

—

Jackson was two. Mateo is nearly there - he'll be two in February. We've got more of Jackson's clothing in storage here, but it won't be long now until Mateo grows beyond Jackson's size, and we end the era of Jackson being the "older" big brother.

Soon, Jackson will become the "younger" big brother.

No more hand-me-downs, the toys moving out of rotation, and our house aging out of a toddler's wobbly walk. It'll become harder to clearly picture Jackson — whether from the fading memories, or the absence of Mateo's toddler-laugh.

And yet: Owen and Mateo will continue to grow and learn more about Jackson. Increasingly-detailed questions, a richer understanding of their brotherhood. A deeper relationship to their increasingly-littler oldest brother, long-gone.