“The hills are alive with the sound of music” were the chords sang through the day and into the night. The girls hummed and danced as one who encounters pure fresh air on mountain tops. The boy run as soon as he heard the chords and danced along with joy and excitement. The dog, also, jumped and ran through the house bursting the smell of Christmas and the beginning of a New Year.
“We are here!” were the words of my sister as I announced my arrival to the Bradley International Airport in Connecticut. It was Christmas Eve and the beginning of 20 days filled with memories of laughter, fellowship, more laughter, delicious food, and love!
The ending of a blessed year with a cherry on top, my parents’ home.
During those twenty days I got to walk the streets of Boston and smile at the “Make Way for Ducklings” statues at the Boston Common. Each working evening I will let my sister know that I was on my way to meet her at her work. I worked remotely with a friend for 7 days and got to roomate with my sister during that time. Every day was so filling, so loving, and at each farewell, a see you later or “nos vemos más tarde” was followed up with a kiss on the cheek to my sister.
We got to play volleyball, we got to prepare our meals, and feed each other like sisters do. We even experience sadness together, as we heard that one of her friends from Argentina had suddenly passed away. We got to take the T and the commuter rail, and the bus. We experience Boston together, or rather, I experienced my sister’s lifestyle for 7 days.
Both of the last weekends that I was there, my sister and I drove to Western Massachusetts, where my parents live. “Do you want to play with me?” Each of my brother’s children would ask. God truly blessed the last sabbath before departure on Sunday. It felt like high 60s outside, so we ran around for hours, until I injured myself while running.
I loved the time with my family, and I cherish it more now that I live 3,000 miles away. You see, not everyone gets to spend New Year’s Day with a 61, 60, 34, 8, 6, and 4 year old team. Not everyone gets to read a book on New Year’s Eve to a 4 year old. Not everyone gets to whisper “Happy New Year!” and go to sleep from tiredness of playing all day. That was our December 31st, and my end of the year was praying by my nephew’s bedside and listening to his peaceful breath. I teared of joy understanding that God has a beautiful plan for each one of us.
On the following day we sang happy birthday to my second niece, as she welcomed her 7th year of life on January 1st.
The hills do fill my heart with the sound of music. And I can hear the echo of us Tapias laughing and filling the house with joy and love.
May you bloom and grow forever!
Tapia 