“It’s time to go to school, you’re late!”
Rubbing my eyes, I look around. I bolt out the door with the school bag slung hurriedly across one shoulder.
I come home few minutes later. It’s Sunday. She is waiting for my return, with a smile on her face.
I wake up from another nap.
“It rained while you slept.”
‘Really’? I answer in bewilderment. Later seeing grandfather washing down the pavement. She got me again.
I used to chew the same gum for days, not knowing when I can get another piece. I would stick it on the wall next to me, to save it for another day’s chew.
One day, I wake up to find a solid white mass stuck to my hair. I am distraught.
“Get it out! Get it out!” I wail and scream.
Snip snip. A chunk of hair falls away from my face. I scream even louder.
“What did you do your sister? Why is she crying?”
I am curious. I touch all the buttons and knobs on the black stereo. Trying to figure out how things work.
“Why weren’t you keeping a close eye on her?”
I create problems. They become her problems.
Her small hand is holding mine tightly. She consoles me, telling me it’s going to be okay. We are at the police station, waiting for our mother to collect us. She is 7 years old.
On a long rectangular table, she places a chocolate sando or strawberry sando, setting for a party of 8. School friends come over to celebrate. She hands me cute notebooks and pencils. My birthday presents.
How did she feel when our aunt and cousin left? Truth blurs my vision as I hold back the tears. I see her for the first time. World on her small shoulders. Born 18 months before me. A child herself. Not only did she have to take care of herself (which she didn’t), but also her younger sister and brother.
The loss of her carefreeness. Childlike innocence. The magnitude of her suffering.
I try and I fail to understand, the depth of her love. I cannot try to make sense of what happened. With her shielding me where she could, taking care of me as best as she could. I am her first beloved.
Into few glimpses of the past, I zoom into her, away from me. Having embraced and consoled the child in me. The past helping me to understand the present you. The past that has shaped and molded you into you today. The you that has shaped me and shielded me into the present.
I dedicate this love letter to my older sister.
My living guardian angel.
Without you, I would have been lost.
Without you, I would have lost my way.
I dedicate my love of writing to the one I hold dearest to my heart.
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