To C3

Note: Somewhere in this huge world-wide web, my sister wrote me an open letter. This letter from someone who saw me at my best and worst (or if she didn’t see me, I told her about it haha). And someone who used to hate being touched or given advice. Now, more than ever, because of where we are in our lives, we are on the same page about most matters. And this is my candid reply to her.

C3,
When we both were young, there was jealousy, I have to admit. You were the favorite, and C1 and I got slapped around like the household-help, with 5 pesos to get us through the school day. I remember many a time when I got scolded because of something you told her I did (which I may or may not have done, memory is weird that way) or something you did but did not ‘fess up to. And so the anger and resentment built up until she finally left and we were ‘mommyless’. You were still with her then, and I could only imagine the pain, physical and emotional, that you went through. Papa, C1, and I formed this alliance in the midst of all our differing sources of pain, and got you and C4 back. And in my naivete, I thanked God that we had gotten our happy ever after.

But I was mistaken.

We were all broken. Papa, C1, me, you, and C4. And it seemed as if there was no energy left in any one of us to stand up, move on, and make our own history. C1, bless her, did her best, at her young age, while I battled my demon ‘insecurity’ that gave way to anger, jealousy, and hatred.
One day, however, a wise man sat me down and told me what no one had told me before. That I was stronger than I had thought I was. And that I was beautiful. Inside and out. I remember I cried because in my whole 15 years in this world, no one had told me that. He also said that hurting others was not going to solve anything. It was papa. And, you know how hard I tried after that.

Thing is, when you’re 16 and forced to save your whole family from drowning, and nurse them back to physical, mental, and emotional help, there no book to help you. There’s only what you see, what you hear, and what experience taught you. I know I’ve said this a million times, but no one taught me that discipline needn’t always come with a blow to the body or mind. She showed me that by example, and I --- eager to fill in for all our sakes’ – I didn’t know top from bottom of it.

And then one day, I woke up, and there was no anger. There was no jealousy. There was no hatred. There was the letting go of all the hurt that had bogged me down. And there was the potential of what kind of people we could be because we had gone through so much. And every time you spoke those words that made my soul cry (‘wala kang karapatan pagsabihan ako kasi hindi kita nanay’), I would just stand firm and dig deep to find that I had heard much stronger words, endured much hurtful punishments, and I survived. I knew not to believe your words because you were angry, and scared, and confused, and traumatized, just like I was.

It was a long and hard wait for me to see you grow up. Every step you took, I watched carefully. I look back now and I think I observed you like a mom would watch her baby take its first steps. I could not let you stray too far away. Rebellion was a part of the healing process, I knew, but I had to make sure you didn’t go ill-advised or you might never return. Sometimes, you would slam the door at me, and I would just get mad. Typical sibling-relationship, people would say. But inside I was hurt, because you were right, after all. I was not, and will never be your mother. I was your older sister, but I knew I had to be PERFECT to gain the respect that was never there for me before because of the past.

When we were younger, I chided you about you not singing good enough, and because of your competitive nature, you strove to be better at it (today, I am so proud of your accomplishments in singing). I realized that because of your upbringing, the way you achieve something is when someone tries to tell you that you can’t do it (I have a theory that’s how it is for most ‘spoiled’ kids, but that’s just me). So every time I knew you were going to get yourself into trouble, I’d double back and tell you the only reason you were doing it was because you couldn’t do any better. And you always proved me wrong, thank God. The singing, the grades, the friends, the college, the relationships --- they were all influenced, in one way or another, by me egging you on the opposite direction.

Four years of incorrect pseudo-parenting in high school, four years of swallowing my pride in college to get you to see things unjaded, 4 years of making sure you fit in with your college friends, them not knowing we were almost wallowing in material poverty.

12 years of my life, 1/3 of the whole time was probably spent nagging you about how your life was going, and giving you the direction you needed. I could say you have to repay me. I could say you need to start treating me better. But I can’t and I won’t. Because now is your time. I see you stand tall and confident in front of the world – no qualms, no insecurities, no baggage. Just the bitchy ol’ capi that I’ve grown used to – minus the no-touch/door-slamming policy. After your tumultuous childhood and upbringing, I am very, very, very proud that you turned out to be this wonderful lady that make people do a double-take once they get to know. There was no motivation for any of us to, you know. But you did it. ‘Normal’ is a novelty word for us young traumatized souls. And though we will never be as ‘normal’ as the average girl, you are turning out exceptionally well in all facets of your life (well, except for the conyotic flair now and then)
Just as an aside, I’ve had people tell me before that I should also think of myself first before you guys, but it just couldn’t be. I was too proud to just let my family stagger along until we all bled out from exhaustion. It was hard to appear normal to others, and battle all our ‘crosses’ at the same time. It was hard to empathize with friends who got mad because their maid didn’t ‘make plantsa’ their clothes right when I went home and faced our struggle to pay our maid and keep the house afloat.

I’ve also had friends who just listened. And friends who treated me no different than the next person, and these kind are great for your holistic formation. You don’t get breaks just because you’ve had a harder life. You grow, and become wiser, and keep all the tools you developed and used.

Haay, c3. I’m so happy to see you flourishing. Juggling our life is not the easiest of crosses, I know, but always realize that some people are worse off. Like, Jeremy, for example. And though, I don’t recommend giving in to every little hand that comes up and tries to take from you, I do recommend looking around and seeing how lucky you are. You are alive & well, got a good education, have better-than-the-average-pinoy’s-health, and blessed with a father who, in his extremity in goodness, will teach you where you need to be in order to walk in his shoes, and be realistic at the same time.

If there’s one thing that I learned from these past 12 or so years, it was that we are all dealt a different hand. But each hand has its merits. Play your merits, and throw those ugly baggage-filled cards that don’t make sense. Get what you can out of life. Love your family and yourself in equal amounts, and be wise enough to know when one NEEDS to take precedence over the other.

There’s still around 50+ years’ worth of breath left in me, so I will still be here, egging you on, holding your hand, and raising the standards for what legacy we need to leave in this world. And you will still be there, being the sungit-kulit person that you are, amazing me each moment with your wit and wisdom. You shuld know that in my head you are still 16 years old. I fear that until I am 40, I will still see you this way. Hahaha. That might be a good thing.

Anyway, as papa always says, ‘Your family is all you’ve got in the end’, and for us, it’s all only just beginning.

PS. Do you remember, we used to belt out Mariah's 'Make It Happen'? That's one of my life anthems hahaha.