On Monday I had a sudden craving for tomato. Not in salad or anything, just a whole tomato, to eat like a peach. I thought it was peculiar, but I indulged the craving that night, and these two nights since. Tomatoes are delicious whole, but messy. There is only one person I’ve ever known to enjoy biting into a ripe tomato, eating its juicy entirety - my brother Malik.
This week marks nine years since he left us, and I suppose my subconscious is reminding me of this. I’ve also felt inclined this week to hear live jazz, another fitting remembrance of him. I still struggle with the regret of failing to love him better, and I’m anxious to understand what an involved and tender love looks like with the brothers and sisters I have remaining.
