I heard my sister's voice the other day.
There was something achingly familiar in the cadences of her speech, the tone of her voice. I recognized her- though I know that's impossible. Something about her reminds me of someone I've heard many times.
I got her letter and I read it 100 times. Though the social worker who had censored our letter had crossed out a lot of identifying information , there was just enough for me to find her myspace, and then, her facebook.
I felt something with her that I've never felt with my other siblings. Perhaps we are more alike, or maybe it's that we come from similar places, similar families. I couldn't tell you what it is.
She and I have spoken every day since. A part of me is sad to have found her. It makes me sad to hear the voice, to see the photos, of someone else who shares my past. Another part of me is overjoyed- happy because I feel that I can incorporate her into my future.
She and I are different. We grew up in different places, with different families & cultures. We've never been together at Christmas, Thanksgiving, or Easter. Until recently, we didn't even know about each other. I live in the East coast- she the West. We have different color eyes & hair. We have grown up without one another.
I am cautious. I know how badly these things can turn out. I know that blood does not ensure love, does not promise trust, or friendship.
But when I hear her voice, when we talk and laugh and joke- I recognize something in her. A glimmer, a sparkle- a reassurance that this was meant to be. We are different- but there is something vital, primal even- that connects us. I see a thread of myself in her.
The two of us have seen many things, felt many sensations, and traveled very far. We come from the same place. My greatest hope, my sincerest wish, is that we can continue on together.
