When I got home, I knew something was different again.
I walked around trying to find what’s missing, trying to identify the void to get it filled. As I moved around the living room, I saw that some shoes were missing. Where was her sensible white flats she loved to wear? In the corner, where my family leaves our footwear, only three representations of its owner were there. Me, my mom and my brother … one is definitely absent. When I paced to the other room, I moved my eyes to where she hanged her clothes to dry and sometimes absentmindedly leave her used towel. There was nothing there.
The void is definite now; absolute and strong.
I went up to check the room where she stayed. Her luggage was gone, her bed made and her yellow Dell laptop, no where to be found. This is really happening, she has left again. After a short uneventful visit, she felt the need to leave again. The house slowly faded to become a little less of a home for me once more. The lights are darker, the colors a little dull and the the place bigger. Not that it was every the same as before when Papa was around, but her leaving made it more profound.
I walked to my room, my shoulders heavy and my feet weary, wanting to cry but didn’t. My sister is gone again. When I’ll see her next, I don’t know. I am not holding to her last promise that she will be around for Christmas. She said she’ll try, so that means almost always close to impossible. We’ll see.
Late that evening I watched her favourite movies, the couch half empty, until I finally fell asleep … still feeling aweful.