Oh, a lifetime of things. Kids, you know. I was a big. But I tried to make the shadow as bright and fun a place as I could. By the time we were both men (he's 5 years younger than me), it was clear that we'd turned out really different. My dad's a self-made immigrant, who was happy to get a pair of used shoes for Christmas when he was a kid in Colombia. We both loved him. But to Anthony, he was like a God, whereas to me he was a man. Anthony worked hard to prove his worth to the eyes he thought were measuring him, to the persistent, difficult scrutiny of a father's judgement. Me, I just explored. He envied me my freedom... from responsibility. Everything was easy for me. He struggled. Though, I offered him love in every way I could, at times I was a flake. At times, I was impatient with him. At times, an arrogant ass.

I think it was probably just pretty hard for him (and a lot of other people) to be around me when I was in my early 20's.

But the funny thing is, I have become acquainted with adversity since our connection as brothers was broken. I feel I could relate more... I'm certain of it.

Whenever I speak with my dad on the phone (like once a month), I ache in the big hollow of the conversation that never touches on Anthony as a subject. They both live in NY, close. At most, I'll ask "How's Anthony doing?" I'll get a run-down on career and girlfriend type details. But what I want to ask is "You think he's ready, Dad? You think if I call him today, he'll talk to me..." I dream I'd ring him up, and that there'd be a slience on the phone, and we'd both gasp for realizing the enormity of our stupidity. We'd laugh and get giddy, and joke about hopping on "next planes". That would b cool.

I also wonder how we'd both be different now if our relationship had been closer all these years. What things could I have told him? What things might he have asked me? What wisdom has grown in that stranger, that *man* I once played wiffle ball with in the park?