Photo of butter melting in a cast iron pan.My parents are fading. As did theirs. My father’s unyielding certitude has been momentarily displaced by bewilderment, betraying a loss of relevance in a new world order. Their eyes brim as they look at me through the glass of the train carriage. As do mine. I took the same train forty years ago to be free of a world that restrained, that suffocated. I open the door and alight, to touch their feet out of respect. I silently promise to return more frequently. Though home is now six thousand miles away. Old grievances have become butter in a hot pan.
Sarita Sidhu is a writer and activist, living in Irvine, California, and a graduate from the Antioch University Los Angeles MFA in Creative Nonfiction program.

Photo Credit: Tiffany

3 Responses to “Fading”

  1. Athalia Norman says:

    Your story is powerful and has left me with a longing to know more and satisfaction that I understand just enough. You write with impact. Thank you.

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