River Otter

 
My mother named my stillborn sister Xiǎoxī (小溪), which means “little stream.” She had hoped her daughter would move through life like a stream trickling over stones. But years ago, during a snowstorm, my sister entered the world silent. When I was a child, she lived in my imagination as a river otter. When I first learned to swim, she came with me to the pool. I watched her glide through the water as the local children splashed and played. In the summer at the river, she floated beside me, her slick fur gleaming in the sunlit current. In the springtime, I spent days in bed with the flu. I laughed as I watched her frolic in the puddles outside my window. At the seashore, I saw her crack open a mussel with her paws, leaving the iridescent shell for me to treasure. These days, after a winter storm, I think of her.

river otter swims

moonlight reflects on her fur

the stream meets the sea

***

(Featured image from Pexels)