How wonderful to see you again! What an incredible thing to hear your voice! The conceived ecstasy of long-awaited separation flooded through me and spurred me to imagine an endless exciting scenario. Again and again, I checked my cousin's phone number and assured it with my younger sister. For more than ten years, I haven't heard from them since my father passed away. Although it was so dim for past days with them together in my memory, I still feel excited and moved at the thought that they are only my kinship on my father's side. In my mind, I firmly believe blood is thicker than water.
As the eldest son of my father's elder brother, Lee only visited us three times. The first two took place in my childhood, and the third in my father's deathbed. The longest days we shared were spent in my teenagers' days when I was assigned to take care of Lee's father hospitalized for haemorrhoids. It last only one month yet impressed me deeply in my dull youth. I felt like to cycle in the broad avenue of his hometown, desired to joke with his little daughter and talked with his wife. The episode unconsciously served as a connection and warm reminder that draw my attention to maintain and revive this distant kinship.
It is time for me to do something to invigorate the eroding kinship. However, as I ventured to dial the number and called big brother with a trembling voice and dancing heart, I received nothing as I expected except an indifferent answer and customary greeting. To my surprise, I have been so close to him, and I can reach him within one hour's ride. As I yearned to meet him by paying a special visit to her home or in a hotel, he even rejected me with the excuse of pandemic Covid-19. In the following months, the subsequent calls ended up with the same result. A feeling of dreariness began to creep over me and finally quenched my thirst to reunite. It occurred to me that I made a fault that I shouldn't change the "distant", because distance produces beauty. Any effort to shorten it will result in ungainliness.