Goodbyes The Shade of Sawdust Brown

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It was as brown as it looked 22 years ago. Somethings never changed.

My first thought when we landed was about the first time I stepped foot into the country. I was two-years-old. I don’t remember it really, but I’ve been told so many times about how my uncle, aunt and cousin came to pick us up at the airport. My aunt was pregnant with her second son at the time.

He is 22 now, he turns 23 on the same day Jude Law turns 44.

I don’t know if we were close, I think we were. We grew up together, the Samson Turner twins. Spent every single weekend at each other’s places. Summers, church, holidays, we did it all together. We weren’t in the same school though, so there was some distance. It’s funny really how we don’t realize when a little distance turns into a lot of distance.

You push one priority up the list, and before you know it, you haven’t had a real conversation with your baby brother in years. But we are talking about something else right now, so let’s get back to that.

I could see that picture clearer than I could see this one right before me. The truth is, I could see most pictures clearer than I could see what has been before me for months now. A few minutes before the airplane touched base, I paused to take in all that arid sawdust brown for the last time. It would be the last time, my heart panged, a stronger pang than I had allowed it to in months. This one, I could feel.

I scanned the land around me, it looked so insignificant from above, so unfertile, so crude. In a split second this flight just landed over a fifty times in my mind. And this would be the last. I have never been a person who likes to embrace, but in that moment I wished that my arms were long enough to wrap this entire patch of land that I called home in one massive embrace of love, in one poignant embrace of farewell.

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