Four Years — A reflection of the lost time of a highschooler

Four years is but a fraction.

I’ll be back by the time you brush those teeth of yours.

By the way, brush those teeth.

Four years is how old you will be when I leave

But four years should not be mourned. 

I am your sister, mom-less mom.

Let us celebrate the bon voyage I always dreamed of.

Mom, dad, and brother too.

Because in four years I will be back by your side, me and you. 

In four years I’ll teach you how to multiply and even do a cartwheel.

We will make those pizzas that we love and milkshakes to end every night. 

You, in kindergarten. Me, done.

In four years I’ll have time to take bubble baths with you, read your favorite books, and even paint your nails.

I am sorry for not having time.

It is all for the next four years.

But I promise, four years is but a fraction,

And in four years, forty-eight months, one thousand four hundred and sixty days,

I will be by your side.