It's wonderful, but sometimes I am selfish. Because what I don't have here are my brothers. My brothers left with lofty goals and found greener pastures in Manhattan. They live fancy lives in sophisticated Manhattan. They jet set. They party at hours when I am doing middle of the night feedings. And they are not here at home. They are someplace else.
I know Manhattan is not all that far away, but sometimes it feels as if it is at the other end of the world. This distance grew once I had children. I want my boys to know their uncles. I want my children to learn from them, to laugh with them, to turn to them when they need help. I want them to love each other. If only they lived closer. If only they moved home. It's hard to build a strong relationship with such a distance. If only.
But I have hope. I watched my little boys play with abandon on Sunday with their uncles. It was enthusiastic games of tackle and chase, video games and lots of jokes and laughter. It was only a couple of hours, but it gave me hope that sometimes the distance doesn't really have to matter at all.
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