I don't know whether it was her innocence that made my heart sank or the fact that she is my youngest sister. She sat at the corner of my bed with flushed cheeks, way past her bedtime, with an important something to tell me. Near tears, she said "I don't want to grow old". I stifled a giggle at first, but it wasn't long before it hit me that this was exactly how I felt when I was her age. The sudden deja vu made me a little dizzy. At ten, I witnessed my parents leaving behind their parents and siblings. I told myself that I'd never want to grow old, and would never want to leave my parents. Amidst the comforting words reassuring my sister that I am not going anywhere, it felt like I was conversing to myself.
Moving to Ottawa has hit Dinah the hardest. This summer, she had a list made with activities that I HAD to do with her before September. Her room is with Irah, but all summer she has slept with me in my room, on a futon mattress. And she will never go to sleep at night without kissing me on the cheek and saying she loves me. Her sudden attachment to me made me realize that the perfect ideal of a child exists a perfect family in reality. Perfect. In that nobody is physically apart or missing. My separation from the family made her believe that I spend so much time in Ottawa, one day, I will never come home again. While I constantly persist to reassure that I'll be home as frequent as I can because home will always be where my family is, with promises to keep up with phone calls and emails...it does little to make her worry or miss me. I missed her too.
It's a funny reality we live in. I was just like her. I didn't want to grow old, because growing up meant goodbyes. It meant separating away from the nuclear household. Sure you're my sister and I take advantage or make you my little servant here and there. Nevertheless, I love you Dinah. And I promise that I'll always be here for you. :)
