everything and nothing

*see my post at shutter sisters today, with a photo from an alternate world and words from a place much more lighthearted in spirit*

there is a softening happening.  it’s gooey and weepy from sources unfamiliar with this type of expression.  

on the plane eight miles high, there was a mother of two seated infront of me. her voice carried between the seat cushions as she spoke to her three year old daughter, “it’s very special being a big sister.”

and i think to myself, what about the little sister? the only sister?

our roles are shifting with space and time. the eldest, once hardened in anger is weeping on my shoulder.  his mouth held tight in quivering frown, unable to form words. “i love you” i say for him and he nods. 

i am the little sister. the reality check. the bearer of bad news. the anger deflector. the denial acceptor. you see, just two days prior, we stood outside in the cold and dark as he insisted “this is normal. this is normal.” because he simply was not ready yet to face a future without mom.

now he says “i’m sorry.” now he says “i should have seeen it.” now he says “i was mean because i didn’t understand.” now he says “nothing matters.” 

because everything matters.

no more hate. no more fights.
all that matters is everything right now.  
this moment.

looking out the window of the plane i am still flying towards the sun. me. the little sister. a jacket under my chin, trying to sleep with the nightlight on, worried about being forgotten.