I came to the realization this week that I am neither as old as I feel or as young as I wish I were. I'm sure everyone comes to this realization at some point in their twenties. We're no longer children but we're not quite our parents yet. My life can not be abbreviated into a two sentence conversation, but it's not an hour long ramble either.
Last night the family gathered for the funeral of one of my favorite Aunts. A sad day indeed. But as we made the rounds, aunts and uncles who I had always found entertaining have lost their shine, and others who were always a bit mundane are comrades in arms. Cousins I used to skip past now find comfort in conversations and old buddies are a bore. I'm not as easily entertained by short quips. There's a depth to my life that I didn't notice develop and the familiarity I expect to have with "family" isn't there.
Somewhere a long the line, my cousin and I noticed that we don't really know many of the people in the room, and that thought terrified us. We're family, aren't we supposed to have inside jokes and not have to ask for updated when we see each other at weddings and funerals? Aren't we supposed to just have our cousin's phone numbers?
Well, we are. But we don't. We grew up and grew apart because one day a year isn't enough to sum up all that's happened and we don't live in highlight reels.
The lament led to a discussion about our immediate family, I don't talk to my brother enough. Well, he doesn't talk to me enough. Well, neither one of pick up the phone enough. And both of us are tired of struggling through conversations.
So before I get any older and start trying to summarize my life when talking to my own brother, I'm picking up the phone.
He better answer.
