the letter

FEB 12, 2006

” Ate”

It’s been months since I heard her laugh, seen her with that big wide grin across her face, received a pat on the back for a job well-done, smelled the aroma of her cooking and heard her corniest jokes…

It’s been months since I hadn’t had someone to share in bed, hadn’t had someone to talk to (be it about economy, latest craze, rising local bands, or Harry Potter)…and I feel it’s been a long, long while since I heard myself call out, “Te!” and see her turn around wearing that smile that makes me feel everything’s gonna be just fine.

I miss her…

Whew…! Missing someone so dear isn’t really easy… I mean, even if everything’s going on pretty well, even if I’m in the middle of a happy crowd sharing funny stories, something keeps on tugging my heart that stings for some time.

So here I am, trying to console myself I’ll be seeing her soon…I’m talking about ‘Ate Geegile’, our eldest sister. She’s got herself a job. And yes, away from home. So far away from home. I had prepared that she’d be away for months or so, but I wasn’t prepared about ‘missing her’…and I guess what has been crucial for me is missing ‘us’. It’s a bit hard to go through a day realizing every bit has changed, something’s lacking, something’s different and there’s nothing I could do about it. And it’s harder to go through it day by day. And no matter how I wished to see her, I knew I couldn’t…The only way I could see her is through my own heart and recall those times we were together…

We grew up with people thinking we’re twins. We wear alike dresses, alike shoes and socks, headbands and watches and even undies. We also wear same fancy gold earrings and we play the same dolls (murdering them sometimes). We’ve been playmates ever since. (I guess, eleven months isn’t really a gap). We have fought over some toys and candies and ‘polvorons’, we ended up scratching each others’ faces and pulling each others’ hairs. But the most enjoyable playtime session (which I know she’ll agree if she could remember) was cooking leaves and molding muds into cookies and then let our imaginations go wild…

We had a lot of fun, though some memories I do not remember. But definitely, childhood was at its best because we’ve shared a lot of happy times together. We learned nursery rhymes together – taught by our mommy Helen (our mom’s sister). We both couldn’t forget being taught t sing ‘ I went to my garden to pick some flower beautiful, I heard the birds sing a song to me. I cried silently, I remember mommy. Mommy, come back to me.’ And then we were forced to cry. It was fun though. We recited poems together, got engrossed with fairytales and ‘Henny Penny’, listened to Mama and grandma’s beautiful and incomparable stories, practiced reading and writing (actually, she taught me how to read and write before my teacher did.), ran for our lives from imaginative monsters (and sometimes from our father’s fury), imitated our favorite characters – she’s Kimberly, I’m Trini from Power Rangers; she’s Tomome, I’m Mikage from a cartoon series; she’s Michealangelo, I’m Donatelo from Ninja Turtles (and a lot more I do not remember), watched our Grandpa’s magic tricks, drew houses (big and beautiful houses) we’ve seen from our trips, counted bruises from the lashes of our father’s leatherbelt, shared our dreams and ambitions our little minds can think of and laughed at each other even when nothing’s really funny at all.

Though, it wasn’t all fun at all. Because we were normal kids, we had a lot of fights. There were times we both had tantrums and end up fighting each other again. There were unforgettable fights we had. I could clearly remember – one was when I stapled her finger. I only realized the meanness of what I’ve done when I saw her face which suddenly turned red and then she cried and yelled in pain. I was shocked for a while and I cried a lot when I saw blood spurt from her finger. I felt so sorry. And I felt so bad when I was scolded because I knew what I did was a horrible thing to do. It made me hate staplers were ever made. Second was when I dreamed she ate my sandwich and drank up my juice and there was nothing left for me. I woke up crying and kicking her hard on the stomach until Papa got me to his arms and tried to pacify me and it was only then I realized I was only dreaming. When I looked at her, she’s sleeping soundly. She had no idea I had given her a lot of kicks for breakfast. And at last, which I really don’t want to remember, happened at Batuan Church. We were waiting then for the bus (it was the day the press conference ended. I was grade 5, she’s grade 6). We were outside the church, chatting when a stranger passed and commented that I look like an ‘artista’, I think. I wasn’t really sure. But it was a compliment because I turned red and wished I’m gone in an instant. Then, when I looked at her, she was teasing me. I told her to stop but she didn’t. And the next thing I knew, I was running after her because she’s gonna tell Mama what the stranger said. I grabbed her back and she lost balance and fell on the floor, back first. I turned pale at the corner as she yelped in pain. I wished I had died right then and there when I saw her classmates and Mrs. Ociones accusing gaze on me.

Mama was worried when she came and gave me the kind of look they all gave me. I stood there, silent wishing, praying she’s gonna be fine. Because I can’t forgive myself. I never felt so bad in my whole life. I know she doesn’t remember any of it. I do wonder why. Those were a lot of reasons to hate. How could she forget that? I even hated myself. Yeah, I didn’t mean to do it but intentionally or not, the truth is I hurt her. And I haven’t had the chance to say sorry. So, I did my best not to hurt her again.

Then, the next thing I knew, we were growing up. We slowly figured out each other’s differences. We don’t wear alike dresses anymore. She doesn’t seem to like bright colors and she doesn’t want us wearing identical dresses. Honestly, I didn’t understand her but later on, I did. We were then starting to figure out our own selves. We have our own personalities, we have our own identities. It wasn’t easy though, adjusting to each other’s differences. Conflicts arise every now and then. We seem not to understand each other. We fight over petty things like who’s gonna do the dishes, who’s gonna clean the house, or who’s gonna do the cooking. (Those were really meaningless times.) We shout at each other. We hated each other. We often find faults easily.

We put blame on one another. No one seems to give in. We both have our pride way too high than our heads. The house seemed so small (as it had always been) for us. But even so, it didn’t change the fact that she’s my elder sister and I’ve got to respect her even if I don’t want to. That’s what I hated most, it’s as if my right has been suppressed. And so I was cruel to her, made her mad at all times. But there’s one great thing about her – even if she’s so mad at me, when I needed help (even if I didn’t ask for) she’d forget about the fight for a while and offer me a hand. And then we end up being friends again. And fight again.

When she has to be away (for the first time) to study in the city, there, I realized what she meant in our family, in our lives, in our existence. Our family seemed to be a puzzle whose one big piece has been missing. Yes, INCOMPLETE. Things changed. My responsibilities, increased. I never thought it would be that hard. You know, wake up early in the morning to prepare for breakfast, wash my own clothes, clean the whole house, take care of younger siblings and being so often misunderstood. Just then, I realized how hard it is to ‘ give in ‘. I had to do sacrifices (though sometimes, I was forced to do it). I had to be more patient, I had to understand things better even if I don’t want to, I had to be more open-minded, accept criticisms and admit my own mistakes. In short, I had to be mature (which really drives me nuts). Who can be mature in an instant, anyway? And there, I realized, it wasn’t easy being her, being an “Ate” in the house.

Being away from each other did good for both of us. We learned to miss each other, value each other’s presence and know each other’s worth. Somehow, the fight scenes were minimized. Suddenly, from an enemy, she turned to be the bestfriend I really needed. I saw great changes in her. I saw how she missed us. And how she makes every moment we’re together extra special. I see her every effort to make us all happy.

When I had to go to college, we both lived in the dormitory and she took care of me. She has to. It was my first time to live in the city. I never felt so small then, there were a lot of fears in my heart and I missed home every now and then. But then, she was there, always there to help, always there to guide me, always does things I haven’t even thought about. It was like having my own mother with me. She provided me with all the things I needed before going to school, constantly reminding me of things I constantly forget. Having her beside me swept all of my fears and worries away. She’s one sturdy pillar I could lean on to.

At times when I lost hope, she was there to comfort; when I’m confused, she gives me pieces of advice taken from her own experience; and when the burdens of my heart are too heavy, she’d be more than willing to take some, if not all, of it from me. She’s a problem-solver, a go-getter, a fighter. She never took me for granted. She was always there to catch me every time I fall. And everytime I’m down, she’d be the first to help me up. She’s always more than willing to give her strength to me even if I won’t ask her to. At times I was panicky about exams, she was there – words as soft as “Good luck!” means so much when it comes from her. It gives me strength and confidence to go on no matter how bumpy the road is ahead of us. At times I’m always in a rush, she would do a lot of things for me – prepare my breakfast, iron my clothes, clean my shoes, she’d almost fix my own hair for me. She has been my source of strength. Yet, she never stopped there. She taught me how to be strong. She made me see my strengths and encouraged me to do better each time I fall. She taught me how to do things on my own…

And she did all those things without complains, without asking for something in return. (And she’s doing all those things for me.) She never stopped showing she cared for me, for us. Sometimes she’s fed up with my tantrums and gets mad but she never spoke off bad words at me. I knew I hurt her for so may times and I made her cry but I never heard one single word of regret for having me in her life. For so many times I wanna give up, but her mere presence and even just memories makes me feel guilty I think of myself all along. She wants me to be happy. She wants me to have a good life. Therefore, I should strive hard to have it.

She’s there for me. Always. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week – for me.

And I knew why…

She loves me.

Whew…! Why am I so lovable? Hehe…

I am so overwhelmed. Every word that comes from her just makes me feel great. Maybe because she knew me from the beginning…she knew me by heart.

Sometimes, I would stop and think, do I deserve the kind of love she gives? I want to give something in return but it just frustrates me because all the things I did for her are just too small compared to all the sacrifices she did for me. And one more thing, she doesn’t seem to need something from me. She doesn’t require anything. It’s as if she’s contented giving me all I need. So all I could do is bow my head and close my eyes and pray to Him that she might be okay, that she might be happy, that she may just be fine…because nothing else that I want for her other than being happy and safe and strong.

I love her so much. I wish she knew that…I owe her, a lot. (Now, I could see, eleven months is really a gap). And I won’t trade places with her, not because being an ‘Ate’ is difficult but because it felt so good and so nice to be taken cared of by an ‘Ate’ like her. That’s the reason why my loyalty and respect is with her throughout the years. No matter what happens, she’s got me with her.

Now, why do I have to be sad? I had her with me all along…

I wish I had told her and showed her how thankful I am for having her…I wish I could tell her that she’s the best. I just wanna thank her for showing me what an “Ate” really means.

NOTE: This blog is courtesy of Fragile Macul, the best ATE (big sister) in the whole wide world.hehe

gikugihan jud niya ug type. thanks te… i lab yu!!!

i wrote this when i missed her. i’m glad to read this again (after three years).

i’m happy about the consistency of my thoughts. i mean, there are actually things i forget. but when i’ve written them, it means, i really haven’t forgotten them. haha

this brought back a lot of memories. those that my mind automatically refuses to recall to prevent myself from hurting. this brought back a lot of tears but i don’t mind at all. i’m perfectly alright.

and i love her…

i love my sister so much.

This is unedited, so, bear with the flaws,nyehehe