In the beginning

I have to begin here because every moment is the beginning of the rest. It is also simultaneously the end of the past. I've never kept a journal for a long time. But my younger brother J recently wrote two words on the cover of a black and white composition notebook: "my journyel". Forgive him; he's eight. I love him. He is essentially my son. And I...I am a bad father.
I've taken care of him ever since I was 12. My mother made his name very close to mine. And so somehow I've become his patron saint. Primarily, I safegaurd his education. I want to make sure he gets into a good high school and subsequently into a good university. My goal, however, is not a doctor or lawyer for a little brother. I don't care if he becomes a janitor (as long as he has benefits and can support his lifestyle). To me different careers aren't better than one another, they are just a matter a choosing which position in life will best help one's self and one's community/world. What I want from him is a full use of his mental capabilities. I don't need a genius-child but I love the intellect and what human being can do with one which is finely tuned.