My fifteen minutes of fame.

There’s that old saying that “blood is thicker than water.” Even as a child I didn’t blindly stand behind it. And in fact, more often than not, I was sort of irritated by the phrase. I realize logically, scientifically, blood most certainly is thicker than water. But the thought that because two people are related inherently means that their bond, their loyalty should be stronger and more important was never anything more than mild irritation to me.

Perhaps it’s in the way I was brought up. I was part of a relatively large extended family; aunts and uncles, cousins and cousins always running around. There was always a family get-together and it was rare that we could not find a reason to party; and in those rare cases, we just made one up. It was great. We were never hungry for family, because it was always there. We were lucky enough to create bonds beyond genetics, not just relying on a common heritage to keep us together. And those bonds seemed unbreakable. Unshakeable. Indestructible.

But life has a funny way of testing things, even the bonds that tie us together. And as we grew up and came into our own personalities, creating ourselves and shaping the world around to fit us, we also grew apart. At first this was something close to a crime in my mind. How on earth could this happen? Didn’t they remember all the summers spent out in the pool eating popsicles and playing “Marco Polo” from sun up until sun down? Was it not the group of us who created clubs and groups with rules and secret written languages? Again, how on earth could this happen? How is it that now I look at them and practically see a stranger?

Yet even more disturbing to me is the fact that I not only see someone vaguely more familiar than a stranger, but it feels that way; conversation doesn’t come easy, and all the secrets we’ve shared and time we spent together seems like someone else’s life altogether. I know I knew you once. But I don’t anymore. And I don’t even know if I want to. So much for the unbreakable bonds of genetics, eh?

Some days it only hurts me a little. Mostly it’s just tender; an old bruise whose cause is unknown and it usually easy to forget. Old memories are my treasures, and they make my heart smile but to see you now and remember all those memories, then realize how far we’ve come and how far that’s distanced us is bittersweet. The memories are priceless, but I’ve come to realize that those memories are all that binds us now. Well aside from genetics, that is.

Most days, however, I just see it for what it is; life. Life gives and takes as it sees fit. And sometimes, unfortunately, that includes people; even family. And I can appreciate that, and even respect it. As you grow and forge through the rough terrain that life places in front of you, you change. And sometimes it doesn’t matter how many hot summer days you spent outside giggling around the patio table slurping on popsicles, you may one day find that your former partner in crime is less familiar than the face behind you in line. Sometimes that stranger’s face you see from across the building is, in fact, your blood.

It’s hard to realize that you share blood with a stranger; especially one that was once more of a Siamese twin than just a blood relative. When we both look back we see a life spent shoulder to shoulder, but the future holds something far more separated.

A miraculous surgery? Or just a dirty trick?

So yes, blood is thicker than water, and once we swam together, laughed together, lived together. But common genes and ancestors have no control of who we’ve become and the distance that has grown between us.

But trust me when I say that I love you no less.

I just don’t expect anymore summer days full of giggles popsicles.