When I returned to China after my study leave, we’d had three years together. Your older sister was able to write to me herself. Your younger sister, well, she was young enough that she could only hold onto the idea of me, but due to her age I faded from her. But you, you remembered me in your own four-year-old way.
When Valentines Day came you dictated the following to your mom:
And I wept when I read it.
I missed you too. And I love you. And part of me has also been waiting until I came home.
Your love, and the love of your sisters, never faded the way your Valentine did.
I knew it would fade, but I wanted to look at it every day and know that this call, though worth it, costs you too. So I hung it where it would be exposed to day light and not packed away, with false safety, in a drawer. Much like the love we share, exposed to the elements and not guarded out of fear. You hadn’t asked to be a part of this overseas life, you were born into it, yet you loved me wide and fierce none-the-less.
And today, today, your wait is over. I leave soon for the airport and as hard as it is to go, knowing you and others have been waiting, softens the blow.
I’m on my way back. Get those arms ready for a hug :).
Your crazy Aunt Amy