When I looked at my sister

Today I saw my sister

the way she used to be—

not because she changed,

but because I remembered.

She was just there,

messy with noodles,

doing nothing special at all.

And somehow

that made it everything.

For a second,

the years folded in on themselves.

Her younger face

fluttered across the present

like a ghost made of memory.

And I thought—

Has that much time really passed?

When did “right now” become “back then”?

When did little turn into growing?

The moment slipped by fast,

like they all do.

But I caught it.

And I’m keeping it.

Not to be sad.

Not to wish things back.

But to remind myself

how quickly seconds turn into years—

and how every ordinary moment

is secretly a treasure.