Today is my sister’s birthday, and she turns 21 years old. I remember the day she was born and how scared I was that my sister was going to be a mutant or a cone-head. =) But she’s neither, and I’m so proud of her and who she is. However, to me, this year her birthday is a gentle reminder of what she and I have been through together, as sisters.
In some ways I will sound like a mother in this blog – because that’s part of who I am and how I grew up with my sister. We’re eight years apart and part of being so much older and having parents who thought I was ‘very responsible’ meant that I became a second mother to my sister. I don’t know whether she ever saw me like that but mostly that’s how I felt. My sister was and still is my responsibility (at least how I see it), and I will do everything I can to ensure her well-being. But, in the end, I am her sister (not her mother) and in many ways she’s one of my best friends.
You see, my sister and I shared something very life changing and I believe it’s bonded us for life (as if being sisters isn’t a big enough bond =)). We shared our parents’ divorce – one that was so painful and difficult that there is irreversible change to both of us. I freely speak of my parents’ divorce to any who ask – I’m like that with most aspects of my life. But what I don’t share freely is the hurt and anger and disappointment in my parents and how they treated my sister and me during and after their divorce. I believe in many ways, my sister and I have become each other’s family and we lean on each other more now than we ever did growing up.
It was when I was 21 years old that my parents got divorced after 31 years of marriage. At the time my sister was 13 years old and I knew that she was going to feel the effects of the divorce harder than anyone else. Neither one of my parents was very stable, emotionally or otherwise. I was so worried about her. While I wasn’t around a lot when she was growing up (since I was away at boarding school) and lord knows she drove me crazy more often than not, I loved her more than anything and only wanted to protect her. The momma bear in me was in full gear. At the young age of 21, the same age as my sister is today, my husband (then boyfriend) and I were researching ways how I could adopt a 13 year old and provide a stable home for her in light of my parents’ divorce.
Only if you knew the pain, the hurt, and the drama that my sister and I endured would you understand the weight of my parent’s divorce on our lives, the stress, the burden. But as I said earlier, unfortunately my sister had the shitty end of the stick during this whole business.
However, if you looked at my sister today, you would never know this. You would never know that she had one of the hardest decisions of her life to choose between a mother who was only interested in her boyfriends and a father who could barely manage his anger, his job and his efficiency apartment in the barrio, let alone try to raise a 13 year old by himself. You would never know that she practically raised herself on her own because our mother conveniently left a teenager alone in the house most nights. You would never know that when she graduated from high school, she didn’t have a home because our mother chose her boyfriend over her daughter. You would never know that she reached out to our dad many times but unfortunately because of time and distance, that reach wasn’t reciprocated as desired. And you would never know that her success in life, cheerleader captain, honor roll student, academic scholarship recipient, all around decent human being, was completely and solely driven from within herself.
I am sad to admit that while I was willing to give up my life and adopt my sister to give her a better one, my good intentions never came to fruition. And unfortunately in my world, my own crazy life took precedence over my sister’s. My whole family was selfish and self-centered and no one ever put her first like they should have. Although eight years later, I think each one of my family members is much more stable and I venture to say maybe even better off than where we were all those years ago before the divorce happened.
All of this is explained, though, as a testament to the incredible person my sister has become in her 21 years of life. I am awed and amazed by her. While my sister doesn’t wear her pain or trials like a badge of honor and it wouldn’t be apparent to anyone who doesn't know what she’s endured, what you would see when you look at my sister is her capacity to love, her compassion, her vivaciousness, her genuineness, her strength and her courage. She’s my lil’ sister and yet I strive to be more like her every day. She’s one of my role models, and I am so elated to see the woman she is and share another year of life with her.
Happy Birthday, lil’ sis!!!
