As this September comes to an end I find myself watching, lamenting and finally sobbing over all those St. Jude’s commercials that inundate my telly during this period (Childhood Cancer Awareness Month) and I’m taking a moment to do a speckle of reflection. Who am I kidding…I’m always in the midst of pondering some aspect of what was and what could have been when it correlates to Sicily. Time does not seem to cease this unintentional and semi-conscious mental drill. I tried to halt it years ago to no avail, concerned it may be affecting my mental and emotional wellbeing. But alas, I just accept it as part of my life and it’s become the norm. No worries…it’s not like an obsessive activity that takes away from the day to day aspects of living my life to the fullest and the acceptance of my reality, but there will always be a nagging “wondering” that will hover over me, especially during the milestones of life that Sicily is absent from experiencing. For instance, high school graduation. I silently celebrated all my friends who had a high schooler graduating this past spring. Surprisingly, there were many from my own graduating class. I’m curious how we managed to overlook that boom (Alison, Shelly, Scott, Julia, Shelle, Dustin…). What was going on back in 2004-2005? Must’ve been something in the water.
One of the more challenging thoughts that has haunted my mind and has been difficult to overcome as the years have passed is the concept of what Sicily would look like as an eighteen-year-old young lady! My heart needed the vision. My mind craved the image. My soul petitioned for that apparition.
One day back in May, Patrick approached me holding out his phone with the screen facing my direction. He was quiet so I made the assumption I was to look at whatever it was he had displayed. I saw a black and white photo of a young lady…a beautiful young lady that I felt in my heart I should know, but for some reason could not for the life of me think of who she was and how I might know her. She was so familiar to me yet a stranger at the same juncture. Such a weird and confusing sensation. I don’t recall ever seeing her face before even though those twinkling eyes and that infectious smile told me otherwise. Then I gasped and the breath was literally sucked out of my lungs for a second. My hand instinctively flew up over my mouth in shock. I looked up to Patrick’s face for confirmation and he smiled as he verified my own facial expressions. When I finally found my voice that was temporarily frozen in the astonishment, I whispered, “It’s Sicily!” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. I couldn’t believe it. There she was, smiling at me as if someone had just snapped a picture of her that very day. I can’t even find the words to illustrate the profoundness of that unexpected moment. Unbeknownst to me, Patrick had asked his incredibly talented artist nephew to attempt an age progression of Sicily to see what she might look like now. He used pictures of her siblings during their high school years as influence to gracefully age her four-year-old face into one of a blossoming young woman. It was her! It was Sicily. This was what I had been dreaming about for years. He nailed it! Having this picture to gaze upon means everything. I gawked at it teary eyed for days back in May. Now I look at it with such a warmth in my heart and a gratification that fulfills all those needs, cravings and petitions.
I’ve hoarded this photo since May, only sharing it with some family and friends… not sure if or when to put it out there into the world. There is no rhyme or reason for my spontaneous actions. I finally felt the urge strike me so I hopped on my phone and started pecking away at the tiny keyboard trying my best to explain something so surreal it’s hard to recount into written word. I’m calling this photo “Sicily’s senior picture!” Thank you Samson Ledesma, we will be forever grateful. I wonder no more for now I know…and so do the rest of you that loved Sicily Evelyn Zeka!
