The last time I came home was nine months ago, last November, when my grandpa was extremely sick. My sisters were both in school, so it was just me with my parents back then. That weekend, in between visits to the hospital, I reexperienced parts of my childhood I’d blocked off for a while — going to the grocery store with my parents, finding new neighborhood parks, my parents taking turn being anxious about my family’s future.
I got back home last night again. This time both of my younger sisters are here as well. Even them I haven’t seen them both at the same time in over a year, often it feels like time hasn’t changed. Whenever I’m at home, time seems to behave different. One moment I’m 24 and an Intense Female in Finance, and another moment I’m in high school again, doing work with my sisters at the kitchen table.
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