Conversations around the kitchen table. Conversations at bedtime. Words floating, words dancing round and round. When Daniel was born, Josh was in high school. A fifteen year old that was absorbed in his AP classes,volunteer work,and social responsibilities. He was also a fifteen year old obsessed with his computer,his friends and taking long showers. At the time, I would ask him for his help with the baby. I did not ask for much, just to hold the baby for ten minutes while I would finish a chore. Josh would oblige and cradle Daniel in his arms. My heart would jump, my heart would smile. When I returned I witnessed how a change happened. Josh was captivated by his little brother. Their eyes locked together,and a faint smile would be draped on his face. Truth be told, I was building a bridge. A bridge that they could meet at. A bond, that goes deeper than the blood flowing through their veins. This holiday weekend Josh now, a third year medical student and Daniel a fourth grader were having conversations, and they were having pillow fights. I found myself still building the bridge between them. A age gap this large is difficult. They don't have the same interests. And so, on the phone with Josh every night I share stories about Daniel. Stories about the food drive at his school that helped nine families. Stories about wise things he said. Stories about books we are reading that I used to read with Josh. I also tell Daniel stories about Josh. I tell him about Josh's new rotations. I tell him about his volunteer work at the clinic. Most important I tell him that his brother is thinking of him. This is how I nurture the bond. I stitch a needlepoint of a life. This is how I create a legacy. A love that I carry like a locket in my heart. A love that will carry them through time.