It doesn't matter the time or distance between us. When we are in the same room, nothing has ever changed. There is a beautiful feeling that comes with nothing changing. We played ping pong all night. I lost every single game to a kid I used to exert big brother strength to growing up. For a few days, I forgot what I was missing. I've been trying to figure out a way to thank him for being a great host and a great friend, but most importantly a great brother. He may not be blood, but I'd bleed for him as if he were. Sometimes God chooses your family. We sang stupid songs in strange English dialects. We drove for hours. We smacked a little white ball back and forth until the wee hours of the morning. I wouldn't trade that week for anything.
We have many more adventures ahead of us. But one day, we are going to be old and senile and we are going to be smacking a ball back and forth at some old man's home. We will look at each other and remember every adventure we have had together and laugh...because life was love and sometimes....ping pong.
Sing.
Migrate.
Thanks for reading...Z
