One Memory At A Time

An evening breeze gently swung the frames hanging on the wall. I ran towards them as they came crashing to the ground. “What a save!’ exclaimed my father from a distance as I proudly held the frames I had saved from breaking to pieces. I gently dusted off the frames as the pictures in them reminded me of the memories of my sister, and looking deeply into them, I went into a flashback. 

“Oh my god, I can not believe this!” said my sister as she opened her acceptance letter to a college in the United States.  Everybody in the house seemed overjoyed. I was overjoyed, too, but my heart went into deep despair. After all, I was parting ways with a dear sister for the next four years.

Not long before, I realized my despair had turned into freedom and happiness. Since my sister had left, I was the only child at home, pampered, always in the spotlight, and went to my own devices. I knew this was a phase that would end sooner or later. 

Fast forward four years; my sister was back. The distance had made us distant in thoughts and practices, but our hearts still felt the need to repair the broken connection, and the absence of each other’s company felt over four years.

I felt deeply that she was back, but not too long, our fates would change again. A week later, I received my first job offer. Guess where? America.

So we are now, the frames still in my hand, and I zoned out looking at them. 

Mummy said, “Come for dinner,” so I left them on the floor and rushed to the dining room. 

“Your job starts in a few days; don’t you think you should start packing?” my sister urged as we finished our dinner.

I took out a suitcase after finishing dessert. As my sister helped pack my luggage, I realized I had left the frames on the floor. There was a high probability of Mummy shouting at us for not fixing them up. The framed pictures, frozen in time, brought tears to my eyes as I hung them back on the wall. It felt like the day I helped my sister pack her suitcases, her memories of home and happiness. Now the time had come to pack mine, one suitcase and one memory at a time.