We are four in my family. My Dad, my Mom, my younger sister and I.
I left home when I was 23 years old.
When I look back at my family life I realize that we were as close as a family of four CAN be, given that my parents were new immigrants in a totally different country and culture .. and who had to work hard to sacrifice for the best for their girls.
My sister Belle, is 4 years younger than me.
She was the cutest thing in the whole world. As she grew a little older .. she became a little tag-a-long-pest. I can only remember the few years when we actually played with common themes and common toys. Then the years and the mild generation difference took its toll on our sister relationship.
Of course my puberty years were spent on me thinking of only me .. and how I fit into the world as I came to experience it. Then in High School, there were boys and girlfriends, and track and field .. and dances .. and more boys ..
Belle entered the same High School the Year that I graduated.
Soon after that, we pretty much had our own group of friends, own activities .. and developed our own personalities, devoid of the other.
The years passed even more and as I entered one of the most ambiguous stages of my life .. (I was not a very good person, nor was I a good daughter, or a sister) the distance grew. As I perceived. And I became comfortable with the distance from both my parents, sister and relatives, as this was how life was .. and this was how it was going to be.
Belle married. She met a wonderful guy, planned a simple yet beautiful wedding, bought a moderately sized home in a very good neighbourhood and after 2 years gave birth to the best little kid you could ever meet!
This did not bring us closer.. it just made me think of her as being older .. and more mature .. and well .. having a life of her own. And I had my own life.
Just last year we had encountered one of the most crucial stages in our relationship of being sisters. She needed me and I was not there for her. Granted, all those years when she
did need me, I was really never there for her anyway (too into my own life to even really think that she might need me), and the one time that she really needed me, her only sister .. I was not there for her. I only found out, like a year later after we had both gotten on MSN and started chatting. She told me in her matter-of-fact way. She was honest and tactful in saying that she had already gotten over the toughest thing she had to go thru . .. alone, and that she did not want to discuss it with me further, but that she wanted me to know how much I had hurt her and let her down.
Wow!
I had no idea.
I was not aware.
I felt ashamed. I felt awful.
What could I say .. but "I'm so sorry." And all Belle replied on MSN was,
"..it doesn't matter now."
"It doesn't matter now."
Those words kept repeating itself in my head that night .. like a never ending text line on MSN.
If it didn't matter now .. then when would it matter?
What
really was the matter?
What
mattered?
What mattered
to me?
How
did it matter to me?
How did
she matter to me?
She does matter to me.
Oh My God, of course she matters to me.
Of course it still matters to her.
Not what she needed to tell me back then. That was back then and that moment had passed long ago .. but this is now .. and no matter what she still needed me as much as I needed her.
And that was the day I woke up from my dream-state life.
It is now a year later. We had re-unioned with one another and our parents in their new home in the Cebu, Philippines this past March. It was the four of us again. Only different.
This time each one of us knows the true value of time and moments. The special sweetness of hearty laughter and of hugs and kisses.
I am 40 and Belle is 36.
We chat when we can, we call eachother on the phone and talk till our ears turn red and our phone bills rise. She lives in Toronto, Canada and I am here in Houston, Texas.
I love my sister Belle. I will never "NOT be there" for her when she needs me. I appreciate her more now than ever. I see her as her own wonderful, caring, responsible woman and I cannot get over myself at how LIFE has been too kind to me.
This could've been an entry about my estranged sister. But it is not. And I am glad.
And I think of what the best thing
is that my sister and I have, that no one else has ... and that is -
HISTORY! We had the same father and the same mother. We shared the same meals of corned beef with eggs and sardines with rice and on a good day, we got take home Chinese Food or Kentucky Fried Chicken when are parents had to work overtime and were too tired too cook. We both got the
belt from my Dad and the
slipper whipping from my Mom when we were naughty

) ... and to actually talk about all the things we shared from different perspectives .. only to find that we thought of them in the same way .. well, most anyway is truly a gift!
I am so happy that I allowed myself to stop being the estranged one. I would've missed out on so, so much laughing!
I hope to be with Belle in the next lifetime. I don't care how .. as long as I can laugh with her again!
Sometimes we forget not how to love .. but why we love.
I am just here to remind you of that.