Thursday, February 24, 2011
When my brother and I were young, we used to play with toy guns. The cowboy kind, completely made of painted plastic, that made a clicking sound whenever you picked them up, as if we broke something and it were rattling around inside--which was likely. They were painted beige, and the mechanisms on the outside painted silver. The pop it made when we shot the gun was a bit piercing, but when we were younger, we never noticed the loud noises. Everything was just for fun.
Heath and I would run around the home we had then--a small yard, a small trailer home. He was so small then, but he was slender, and had a bit of tone. Probably from jumping off of things and reenacting the lightsaber fights in the original trilogy of Star Wars. My arms and legs were no bigger than his, really. Five years apart in age, and at that time, no one could really tell a difference, we were just kids. Age did not matter. Nothing mattered, as long as it was fun... And as long as we did not get scolded for it.
I remember those days. I miss those days. Watching my brother outside in the front yard playing cowboys--or at least what he knew about cowboys from Woody in "Toy Story"--and pretending to be a Jedi Knight, sometimes tagging me in his little imaginary games. He had a trunk full of costumes and clothes that held onto his little body as he zoomed around our home and tried to tangle me into his chase. Everything from Jedi outfits, to a Spiderman costume, to a bit of cowboy accessories. He even had a Link costume from The Legend of Zelda.
These days, he is much slower. Video games and television excite him more than anything else. These days, I am much slower. School drains me mentally and physically the longer I stay here. But the both of us, no matter what we are doing, we are doing something we love. The five years we have different feels like a larger gap emotionally, sometimes. But in the end none of that matters.
When we reunite, on my days away from campus, we have fun. He is my younger brother, after all, and I love him.
I miss him.