Everything even comes in fours. Four elements, four seasons, four Ninja Turtles, and four suits in a deck of cards.
I’ve always loved the way the quadrilateral worked in my house. We were like an isosceles trapezoid with two pairs of congruent bases: my mom and my dad, then my sister and me.
That was until life took its course and refused to shift or alter. The way we avoid life is kind of funny, isn’t it? We know eventually we must let go, but we push the thought away until it is staring at us in the face.
So I packed up some photos and memories, folded my sister neatly in with them, then shipped them all off to face life on their own.
I remember standing in my kitchen the day after, the counters a country-blue tug on my heart, and feeling a weight crush on my shoulders like a heavy seat of hands. I swore when I closed my eyes I could still imagine our house bustling and rippling when the groceries arrived. The yellow pulse of life as we moved around the kitchen as easily as the seasons meld into one another and the Ninja Turtles fight side by side.
But my sister’s absence was almost tangible, and although she was only in college, it felt like she had gone forever.
It was so lonely not having an angle congruent to your own.
Now instead of light falling from yellow ceiling lights, cold grew from blue counters and silence erupted from red wall decals.
But that quiet moment soon ended when my mom walked through our garage door with cheeks a nice rosy red and a bag of groceries in each hand. My dad wasn’t far behind.
Not 15 minutes later my dad and mom were cooking as I chopped carrots and we laughed and joked until the sun disappeared behind plump pine trees and we had to turn on the pulsing yellow lights. In that moment, everything felt right again.
Everything structured comes in threes. Three main Greek gods, three pyramids, and three little pigs. I’m beginning to love the way the triangle works in my house, but I still live for the days we can become a trapezoid once again.