A Distant Memory

Here to stay for a few days, and gone so suddenly the next, hardly leaving a trace of her presence. Feeling her absence here afterwards only lasts for a few seconds, and I'm back to my daily routine. How is it that someone could be here and not here within a few moments? People come and go, promises are made and broken, and memories are forgotten just so that new ones can be created. I learned that early on in life. Don't hold on, it's the easiest way to cope; that way there's no need for letting go. She comes in and out of my life, and it feels like I'm struggling to get a quick glimpse. "She's here. She's here," I have to constantly remind myself. But she leaves, closing the door, and I can hardly remember the shape of her face, her stature, the way she smiles, or her mannerisms that resemble my dad's so well.

I always wake up the next morning, having a strange feeling of a faint dream that oddly seems to be still lingering. Walking downstairs, I pass the hallway and stare blankly at the spot where her bags should sitting so calmly next to the cold, bare window. But today, they're not there. 

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that she's my sister. She's more like a stranger who happens to have similar DNA.The one thing I cannot possibly understand is that no matter how many times she has came over to visit, it seems like I never fully know who she is. Each visit, I hold on to one more piece of knowledge about her that I did not have the day before. And she closes the door one more time, only to leave me with mixed feelings, unexpectedly welcoming her once more the following year.

But she is a mirage of untold stories, scars that cannot be mended, and a confusion of emotions.

With each visit, I attempt to hear a new story, to admire a different scar, and experience the many constantly changing emotions, with her. I can only do this over and over again until she is no longer a distant memory,but a permanent part of my life. 

Sara Nabhan

Writer

Bellaire High School

Houston, Texas