Read to me

Penn Station, New York City. 7-28-2014

While waiting for my Amtrak train to arrive at New York's Penn Station, I glanced over to my left and saw a grandmother reading to her granddaughter and I couldn't help but think of my Yai. 

My grandmother passed away two years ago while she was in Thailand. She was taking her son's ashes back to his place of birth and she had planned on returning home in a month's time. She fell ill while she was there and was recovering in the hospital when she passed in the middle of the night. It was peaceful, I was told. 

I would give anything to have her back with us again. Yai was the matriarch of our family. She was the glue that kept us together regardless of our differences. I only lived 20 mins away but my visits were few and far. I remember seeing her right before she left to go to Thailand. She visited me at my place of work and hugged me before she left and that was the last time. She donated her body to science so we haven't been able to bring her back to the States. This September ends her time as a "Professor" and we will be able to finally bring her ashes back...or so we hope. 

Sister

My sister rarely smiles. Shortly after her twelfth birthday, I visited her at the Quality Inn my parents happened to be staying in. My stepfather travels around the US for his job and often times in the summer, my mother and sister accompany him. During this trip, Betty had just recently been to church camp and had spent ten days traveling around the Midwest staying in various hotels. She enjoys it, she tells me. 

This photograph is a rare and brief moment. My sister doesn't smile for the camera. Betty and I are seventeen years apart and most times I our disconnect. This photograph keeps me close to her.