There was a sting in my eye when my sister departed for college. I lay in sorrow, sinking into her cold, empty bed. I watched the time on the clock, and with every tick, it seemed like part of me ticked away into despondency. For the first time, I realized my life was changing forever and that my siblings and I would no longer share the same house again. Only a place to visit from time to time, where eventually we will split off, building our lives separate from each other.
I stare at the pink and white rustic decor that hangs on her walls—the same walls my dad built by hand at the pandemic’s peak. I remember my envy of how I wished my room could look like hers. I faced the reality of how, pretty soon, this room would sit old and bare, just a place to sleep on weekends.
I noticed that I find myself counting the days until we go on break for the holidays, not because I get to miss school or enjoy the season, but because my sister will come home. I look forward to our long talks about her boy issues and my lack there of. I miss our long car rides with a lack of direction as we sing to every genre of music.
I look over at the ground where I lay when Nana came to visit all those times. I find some part of me enjoys sleeping on that old black carpet; it makes me feel like we’re both little girls again, sharing the same pink and flowery walls. As I look up at the ceiling, I reminisce on the times she and I would sneak out of my crib late at night and tip-toe up to the kitchen to eat the big tub of Animal Crackers. I used to climb up into her twin-sized bed when I would get scared of the monsters that were supposedly in our closet. Although I no longer believe in the monster in the closet, I wish I had enjoyed those times while they lasted. I didn’t know it then, but the real monster is time.
I take one last glance at the vacant room, wipe the tears off my face, and remember the time I have left is a privilege. Although change might not be my favorite thing, I know new memories will arrive to replace the void of the old ones. I wish that we would not build our lives separate from each other but together, even if they’re in a place other than our childhood home.
Now I know how to appreciate small things. With time, they have changed from what I have always known.
