You were sickly and in a wheel chair. But then you were swept up on what started out as a zipline, flying between electrical wires that changed to a magic carpet twisting and turning through the sky that was filled with giant bright colored animals. I was worried you’d fall off. You could barely walk. I had to look away. I was walking down a road with all the people I knew and loved. I was looking for my sister. She was magnificently beautiful and I had heard she loved you too. I was afraid she’d take you from me. Afraid you’d love her more. I wanted to find her. Threaten her. Tell her to stop. Then you were there again. Walking beside us with a cigar in your mouth. Laughing and joking. Everyone’s attention was on you. Everyone loved you. You loved everyone. We rode on your wheel chair for awhile. Your arms around me and mine around you. Then you were gone. Off to visit and laugh and love with someone else. I was invisible. Watching everyone from far away. They were walking faster and faster. I wasn’t going to keep up. I was staying behind. I waved goodbye but everyone was moving forward, to something I couldn’t see yet. I felt sadness but not sadness.