I stopped and smiled down at the little girl tugging on my leg. 

          “Ashlie, please don’t go!  I’ll miss you so much!” My little sister stopped and stared up at me with huge eyes filled with the most dread and despair that a 5 year old can dredge up.

          “Silly, I’m just going baby-sitting!  I’ll be back after you’re in bed, but I’ll be here in the morning.”

          “Promise?”

          I hesitated, and looked her full in the sweet childish face, not willing to make promises I couldn’t keep.  My mind whirled to a day not so long ago, and yet so far away that I blew dust off the memory and peered down towards my tear stained, 11 year old face.

          “YOU PROMISED!!  YOU SAID HE’D BE FINE!!”

          I shuddered as I watched my mother move to gather me in her arms, her shoulders laden with a heavy responsibility of raising four children alone, the pain of being forced to move on, the fresh burden she would carry forever, wounds that would indeed leave scars.  I will never forget the promise, never forget that it was broken.  The promise that even my mother believed, promised herself.  How it must hurt to break a promise you’ve made to yourself.

          Why should anyone else have to live through that?  I asked myself, and marveled at how such a simple ritual could evoke such hidden emotions.  But I already knew why these memories were out of place.  Because I, too, have “moved on”.  I no longer live every moment of my life waiting for the ones I love to up and leave.  I no longer use every opportunity I have to remind myself of my “tragic life”.  I have learned how good can come from bad, and how people grow from trials.  Life lessons that were handed to me at such a young age.  I have learned that, no, life is not fair, but yes, you WILL survive, and be better ‘cause you did. 

          I looked at her face once more, and decided to let her learn all that in good time, like I would have. 

          “Its better that way” I whispered aloud.

          “Huh?” she asked, twirling a strand of hair around her ear.  I snapped into focus, her waiting eyes bringing back from miles away.

          “Nothing darling, nothing at all.  I’ll see you in the morning time, sweet pea.”

          A kiss on her forehead and I was gone.  It probably wouldn’t be the last time I saw her, but what if it was?  I shook my head, as if to clear the foggy thoughts, and laughed at myself, at my mindset.

          “See you tomorrow!” I called over my shoulder.  See you tomorrow.