6 Months Later

November 26, 2023

Grant County, Kansas

6 months later, I haven't forgetten. I think about you every day. I've been reaching out in my mind-- reaching out to feel your hot sun on my back. Reaching out to smell the masala waft from your houses. Reaching, reaching for your people and the way that they loved.

I see your sun-wrinkled Uncles and Aunties in front of our metal gate. They look at me through eyes clouded by cataracts and beg that surely there is something we can do. As Tulshi the Caretaker tells them where to go, they look to me for conformation. I repeat the same thing he just told them, and then, then they can believe. I see the hope rising in their chest, and they almost run down the palm-lined pathway to the hot, crowded clinic down the road.

I see your children, their dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. I see them running through the sand chasing the football. They shout in celebration as a goal is scored, and I can hear them laughing. I see their brows furrow as they try to understand a new and strange American game their white friends are introducing to them, and the realization on their faces once they finally catch on. I see your babies smiling and giggling, their tiny brown hands holding my finger in tight grip.

I hear the prayer call. I still remember every word, every eerie intonation of the muezzin's wail. His voice rises and falls and curls around the ancient Arabic syllables like the smoke pouring from a fire. I hear your streets, a-bustle with that beautiful chaos. I hear the tinkle of rickshaws. Buses bellow as they fog past. The smell of cigarettes mixes with the smell of trash and the sewers, creating a very uncomely fragrance so pungent, and impossible to forget.

I can see your smiling people and the twinkle in their eyes. The sunlight reflects off their raven-black hair. They must be the most beautiful people in the world, I still think. I can tatse the food they put in front of me. Murigi, chingri mach, doi, pitha... I see them beaming as we tell them how good it is. Everybody appreciates affirmation.

6 months later, I haven't forgotten. I haven't forgotten the buckets and buckets of rain water we scooped out of our house after Cyclone Sitrang. I haven't forgotten the lonely nights and holidays, and the relentless and unforgiving heat. I remember the tears, the questions, the lonely nights on the phone. Nights when I should have been hugging my classmates in their wedding dresses. Nights when I should have been standing at Grandpa's graveside. Nights when I should have been The Sister of the Groom.

I haven't forgotten your colors, the sound of your laughter, late evenings in your cities, your epic thunderstorms, and how distance brings people together. I still remember the taste of a fresh coconut, the smell of the blooming suli flower, and the nervous excitement as we anxiously stand at the airport waiting for arrivals. The memories are still so vivid and near that sometimes, I think I'll see you when I open my front door.

6 months later, I haven't forgotten any of it: the good or the bad.

I hope I never do.

And today in song, I was reminded of a Constant in this changing tide:

"All my life You have been faithful.

All my life, You have been so, so good.

With every breath that I am able,

I will sing of the goodness of GOD

"I love You, Lord

For your mercy never fails me.

All my days, I've been held in Your hands.

From the moment that I wake up

Until I lay my head,

I will sing of the goodness of GOD.

"I love your voice,

You have led me through the fire,

In darkest night, You are close like no other.

I've known you as a Father;

I've known you as a Friend;

I have lived in the goodness of GOD."