Have you ever look back at a photo and go, hmm, I know that person. But in fact, you don’t really know that person at all other than the person’s name. As I sit here at my desk, eating yogurt at 8 in the morning and browsing through my pictures, I came across this photo.

It was shot two years ago in Las Vegas, the last time I went on a road trip. You see the kid in the black and white jacket behind me? That’s my cousin, not the one that’s coming next month but the cousin I was living with before I immigrated to the U.S.

I call him Sam and he’s 18. That was the first time I saw him since my visit to China in 2005 and probably, it’ll be the last time for a while unless I decide to go back to get my teeth fixed. He will be starting college this year.

I don’t really know that much about him. His favorite food, color, etc. I never asked him about it when he was little. So other than his name, age, and that he’s my cousin and soccer and phone addict, he’s just another relative I have absolutely no knowledge. This practically makes him a stranger, acquaintance tops.

He came along with his parents to visit two summers ago. When he walked out of the airport, I didn’t recognize him at all and I didn’t until I looked closer at his facial feature that I saw the resemblance from the little boy I grew up with.

It was like looking at a complete stranger. I guess I was just hoping he was the same little boy that enjoyed playing chess and poking fun at his older cousin but I kept forgetting that not everyone is like me, forever the same. That’s the problem with living on two different continents, I missed so much of my family growing up.