The years collapse, and I see myself kneeling and crying and begging, with my hands clasped together in prayer, talking to some unknown force.
Please don’t let him die, please don’t let him die, please, I’ll do anything, only please don’t let him die.
What strikes me now as it never has before is that I can’t say my prayers went unanswered. I was given what I asked for. My brother did not die. But I did not know then that I was praying for the wrong thing.