Dear Little Sis: An Epistle of Musings from One Sister to Another

 

I have written about so many people in my life: my parents, my sister Bebang, my nephew, my husband, my former lovers, my friends and ex-friends, even my dogs (who are like humans but better). But, regrettably, I haven't written about my youngest sister yet, at least not in long form or, you know, the write-ups 95% of people don't read anyway. Not because I never wanted to but because in some way, in some unspoken words, we have been somewhat emotionally estranged in all the years I've been away from my family since I started working and slowly pushing everyone away in my pursuit of healing.

That essentially means I'm still getting back on track on knowing more about her. Even though I know all about the little things, such as the kind of music she likes and her fashion style, I want to really know HER. I wanna know what drives her, what she thinks of certain things with her independent thinking and opinions regardless of my own, what keeps her up at night, what she looks forward to when waking up in the morning, what she does and doesn't advocate for, why she believes the things she believes in... things of that nature.

There is one thing that no matter what I have experienced in life I'll never know in the way that she does: I don't know what it's like to grow up without a dad. I don't know what it's like to lose a father to illness so young you can't remember anything about him.

Fatherless at Two… for 17 Years and Counting

Christi at Dad's hill (grave)

When she was only two years old, Christi lost not only her father but a male figure who could have given her the kind of relationship my dad used to have with our middle sister. As the other daddy's girl she could've been, there are so many things she never experienced firsthand. She only lives this could-have-been life of a daddy's girl through stories and memories. Memories that aren't even hers.

A photo we took during one of Dad's death anniversaries

I don't know if she considers this a void or something that's lacking within her or if it's something she thinks of as an empowering experience on which to stand as she finds her place in the world. I'm aware that a lot of people who grew up with absentee dads do not think it's a loss in any way but a reason to step up and be their own heroes. We didn't lose our dad like that, but I have heard some people say they are angry about the situation (not having a dad because he died early). Whether she thinks of the former or the latter, I don't really see why I should have any qualms about it. She can feel however she needs and wants to feel about it, and learn or unlearn whatever is growing in that space in her heart. My hope is that one day she'll know what to keep and discard to find the balance she needs.

Am I My Sister’s Keeper?

What's my role in this then? The truth is I don't need to breathe down her neck to force her into a path I think is "best for her," especially now that she's a young adult. My role is to be available when she needs me, in the capacity that she needs me. I know that's a bit reaching because I'm not always available, especially when I'm doing my own healing work in isolation. But I want to be emotionally available to her when she needs it most. I only want to give advice when she asks for it or when I can sense she needs it but is hesitant to let me know. And I want to stand by her side when she feels alone.

Netflix & Chill night at my old apartment

In our family dynamic, it's extremely easy to feel alone. I'm pretty certain we each feel alone most days despite being near one another. Our unhealed individual traumas have formed a barrier, and I'm not sure if it will ever be teared down completely. Whether it's a lack of total forgiveness or just broken pieces that were never restored, I guess the amount of damage or the debris from it requires more time and effort to reach a more developed stage of openness.

An Entire Generation and Many Tragic Experiences Apart

It's all the more difficult with generational gap. You see, my other sister and I are millennials; our youngest is Gen Z. I will be a bit analytical here, so I hope Christi will forgive me if this isn't true for her. But the way I see it, I think a part of her has always wanted to share significant generational things with us. It's possible that she's just a naturally instinctive old soul with good taste in music and the arts, and then maybe a part of this can be attributed to the likelihood that she wanted to relate to her elder sisters who otherwise wouldn't have had a lot of things in common with her.

She listens to millennial music and grandma types of music (classical, opera, etc.), knows about an impressive amount of pop culture from the '90s and 2000s, and more. It allows the three of us to bond over shared interests. When I started realizing this, I felt guilty thinking that, regardless if she's just an old soul or she wanted to belong, she did her part in finding a common ground and I wasn't able to do as much. I wouldn't know how my other sister sees this, but I think we didn't meet our youngest sister halfway in this regard; instead she clawed her way into our doors so we could see her and let her in.

The photo we used when we launched The Cheraones as a
trio singing and entertainment group before the pandemic

I know we have our differences and we always will. We're imperfect and we always will be. But I wish we decided early on to meet her in the middle so she knows she doesn't have to be somebody of a certain standard or status within the family to be loved and accepted, that she can be as involved as she wants, that she has a say in family matters, that she is equally as important as everybody else in the family, that she is seen and heard.

She probably feels like an outsider because her two sisters have so many shared traumas and pains that she isn't a part of. She's probably the way she is sometimes (withdrawn, isolated, not wanting to participate, anxious, etc.) because she feels she needs to catch up all the time to have a sense of belonging.

Family Expectations – Helpful or Harmful?

I've been struggling recently and it got me thinking about how much pressure she probably had growing up with elder sisters who were always in the honor roll, who excelled in some respects, and who had their share of feats as much as failures in their day. I know I offered assurance when she was younger that she doesn't have to be this and that to be loved by her family, but maybe I didn't do enough. I certainly had different beliefs and thinking patterns back then. 

Congratulatory and encouraging notes for her after she
won the pageant at UCCP Baguio

I try to remember what it's like to be nineteen. She's definitely doing so much better as a nineteen-year-old than I did when I was her age. I was a ball of mess throwing my life away because of untreated depression. At nineteen, I was invisible. No one made me feel I was seen, heard, or accepted. Despite not feeling like she belongs, my sister is making better choices than my effed-up teenage self could have imagined.

I think sometimes we misunderstand her because we expect her to be a certain way because of how we were raised and the things we experienced that she didn't. In the same way, I think she can misunderstand us sometimes because she was taught things differently and is still at the early stages of figuring life out. We have been alienated from one another because of generational gap, different upbringings, and a lack of consistent communication. There are still things we cannot talk about in our family that I hope one day we can openly discuss without judgment or prejudice.

I guess what I learned from this is that I cannot blame our youngest sister for not knowing what we know, and we cannot take away what she knows that we don't know. We can't blame her if she was raised differently, but we can help her find her way in her own healing journey as she tries to live her truth. We absolutely cannot think we deserve to live our truth and she cannot. We can only find spaces and opportunities to compromise; adjust; meet halfway; and operate from a place that listens, cares, and loves. 

I Celebrate You for YOU

My sister is a very gifted and brilliant young lady. She's the only one in the family with an angelic voice. She can draw and write poems, and she has a remarkable fashion sense. She's smart and sensitive and carries a lot of the Taurus woman's traits. She truly wears her heart on her sleeve. She tears up easily and cares deeply.

She was class salutatorian in sixth grade. She was consistently in the honor roll throughout high school and has won academic and musical awards she never posted on social media. (Makes me think again that I wish I was able to support her more.) Now that she's about to end this current chapter of her life to enter a new one, she's doing so with such promising potential. I celebrate her achievements and her excellence in what she does. But beyond all that, I celebrate her for who she is. I celebrate her, period. 

I'm Sorry and I Love You

May this be a token of reaching my hand out, stepping outside my door, walking a fair distance to our meeting place in the middle of this maze, and apologizing for the times I wasn't there and might not be there in the future when I'm unable to. I hope this brings a message of "Here I am. I'm right behind you on the path that you want to go. You don't have to walk all that way alone to reach me; I'll walk with you. I'll open the door for you. If you're lost, just always come back to this place. We'll find a way together."

I sent this article to my sister for her approval before posting. I asked her to check if there's any information she's uncomfortable with and I would gladly omit it. She said she wouldn't change a thing. Thank you, Kitli!