Recreated Frames

Recreated Frames Maahir and Serena left for D.C. today—a quiet departure, yet one that stirred something deep within me. That city holds a very special memory. In September 2023, just months before our world changed forever, Sana and I had taken a short trip there with Idris. He had some work for a day or two, so Sana and I had time to explore the city together. It was a spontaneous getaway, a break from our routines. I remember how intensely hot it was, the kind of heat that clings to your skin and saps your energy—but Sana? She didn’t care. She was on a mission. She had this way of seeing the world—not just as it was, but as it could be. Every building, every mural, every quiet corner was a potential backdrop for a photo she had already envisioned in her mind. And she was relentless. “MOM take one more. No, wait—just stand there, a little to the left. Okay, now one with me twirling.” I must have taken a hundred photos that day, maybe more. At the time, I teased her about it. But looking back now, I treasure every one of those moments. It was just us—walking, laughing, sweating in the sun, but so deeply connected. That trip became one of the most beautiful memories we created together. Today, Maahir recreated those memories with a quiet grace that touched my heart. He and Serena visited the same spots Sana had loved, taking pictures in the exact locations she had once stood. He sent me a photo where he posed just like Sana had, in front of that iconic D.C. background. It was as if the past and present blurred, woven together with love, remembrance, and tenderness. The gesture wasn’t just sweet—it was sacred. It reminded me how love, when nurtured, doesn’t just fade away. It transforms. It continues. And it finds the most meaningful ways to show itself, even through something as simple as a photograph. Fuchsia memories, that’s what they felt like. Bright, bold, alive—just like Sana. I’m so grateful for that trip. For the bonding, for the laughter, for the hundreds of pictures that once felt like too many, but now feel like not nearly enough. I’m grateful for Maahir and Serena, for carrying forward Sana’s joy, her imagination, and the vibrancy with which she saw the world. Memories like these are not just reminders of what was. They are bridges that connect us to the love that never dies.