Selfish Reasons, by Lisa MIller

“Come, stay with me,” I’d proposed, selfishly preparing myself for the grief looming ahead. My brother had terminal cancer with two months to live.

So, we laughed until our stomachs hurt. Watched Jeopardy and cooked gourmet meals. We talked all day and into the night.

Then, we fought and didn’t speak for two days. Surprisingly, quarreling made things feel ordinary as we remembered us. The teasing, tickling and relentless arguments. The brawling till we screamed bloody murder. Conflict? Friction? Yes, our classic sibling rivalry. And I needed him for one last round.