Not Saying Goodbye

She watched her sister getting ready to go. She did everything in tight, well-practiced turns – cinching the strap, adjusting the seat, looking up at the screen, scrolling through the updates – not looking back, not doing anything except what she had to for her to leave.

She didn’t want to say goodbye to her sister. She had to say it right, reach for her hand, wait and then turn to go. It made it worse to think about it. She should have just done it, just say the words and be done with it. But she didn’t.

She was exaggerating everything. She was exaggerating. They had been together too long, forever on this journey, and now they weren’t. That was all there was to it. As much as it might mean later, it was just this moment, the same as the last, the same as the next. She wasn’t going to make it something else. She would see her soon. She turned to go.

“Hey!” Her sister yelled after her.

She turned back. “What’s up?”

“That’s it?”

It hurt to hear her say it like that, like she hadn’t thought when they both knew she had. “Give me a call when you get there.”

She turned away again, back to her screen. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

This Too Will Be Gone: Forgetting.

This moment matters. This moment right now. I am writing. You are reading. This is it. This Too Will Be Gone: Forgetting.Maybe more than that. Moments of truth. Never forget. This Too Will Be Gone: Forgetting.And yet we do just that. A constant. This Too Will Be Gone: Forgetting.People are killed. Wars are wages. On to the next thing. This Too Will Be Gone: Forgetting.So right. And then it’s the next thing – what is it now?This Too Will Be GoneNone of us will remember what it was were not supposed to forget.