Gap Years

Vianna Posadas

December 18, 2022

At the age of four, 

you put bows in my hair. 

Our fourteen-year age gap 

may have been our greatest 

barrier, or perhaps your impulsive 

move before I turned five. 

I look at the commemorative photo 

of one of our few sisterly bonding 

moments. My hair in high pigtails, 

glittery lip gloss complementing  

blue butterfly barrettes tailored 

to showcase my Dora-style bangs.  

The photo snapped days before  

your departure would be our last 

for nearly a decade. Our next  

photo will showcase me towering  

over you before your twenty-sixth  

birthday; the next before your thirty-sixth.  

This tearful reunion is complete  

with a promise to never again wait  

decades between each visit. 

So many years lost, with two 

stubborn parents influencing 

my young mind. Now that we 

are grown, I understand both 

sides of the narrative. I cannot 

dwell on “what-ifs,” but I can 

try to make up for lost time. 

You now call me for makeup  

advice, discussing the latest deals 

at Sephora and Ulta, forwarding 

coupons that enable my addiction. 

It seems like you were just playfully  

slapping Mary Kay blush on my cheeks. 

We now discuss the best foundation 

that will not settle into our fine lines. 

At twenty-one, I now drop 

the “half” in your title: sister. 

Vianna Posadas is a graduate student at Lamar University. She is a certified teacher who substitutes and resides in Nederland, TX.