Thinking back on everyone I have known in my life, I would have to say that my greatest inspiration in my life was one of my older brothers. When I was growing up, life was a bit harder for me than for most. There were things I didn't “get” that seemed to come easy for others. I remember him telling me in the patient way he ha, advice on things he could tell I was struggling with. He was the father I never had.
I was going through some old back and white photos a few months back, and there was one that stood out. I must have been all of 2 years old, which would have put him at at a mature nine. I was sitting next to him reading a book to me, while I was looking up at him. It was indicative of the years to come when I realized I wasn't just looking up at him, but looking up to him.
We have grown apart a bit through the years, but with his recent stroke and the simple fact that we are all getting older, it is time that we reconnect. Through all of the changes I have been through, my memories of how he helped me in little ways have gone a long way. His mannerisms inspired me, sometimes without me even recognizing it at the time, to be the same way.
They say that the graveyard is full of people who were too busy to die. I don't want to be one of those people. I miss him more than I have ever told him, and that's no way to treat your inspiration.