Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative):
I bet you are thinking: I am not his sibling or closest relative. Looking at the chart of a family tree my Anthropology teacher gave me, you are my cousin once removed. As a child, I thought that meant some kind of weird cousin emancipation, but it just means you’re my mom’s cousin. Okay.
But in a way, I guess you are my closest relative, going on the definition of closest that means “emotionally close” and not “bloodline close.” I’m so stoked about what we’ve got going, this friendship thing. That’s what I call you now. I say, my friend Darrin in Bloomington. I hope that’s okay. Because, I feel like what you’ve taught me and do for me and the way we interact isn’t the humdrum boredom of cousinship, but of friendship.
As a human being in general, I like to think that I think more than ever, and much of that, it seems, would be because of you. Simply, you taught me to think about the choices I make. You taught me to take an interest in others, not in a you’re-my-friend-so-I’m-listening-kind-of-way, but in a you’ve-got-experience-and-life-and-culture-and-I’m-gonna-listen-kind-of-way.
I remember when Sara and I moved to Scheidler that sweet summer where we lived across the yard from each other. That was so much fun. You were all about the birds, with a hook thing and a bird feeder outside your window. Sara bought one and you wrote a sticky note on it that said, HEY BIRDS THIS FOOD IS POISONED THE GOOD FOOD IS OVER THERE→. Yeah, I’m still laughing about that.
I wish you were here sometimes, so we could ride bikes to get frozen yogurt or go to the farmer’s market. I wish I was there sometimes, so we could do culturally cool things and shoot pool. I know you’ve got a two year plan, but I do too.