nadine jensen

tonight i realized my role as a sister.

a nine-year gap between me and my brother makes our relationship as siblings rough and fun and crazy and unpredictable. he's the one i asked God for when i felt so alone as a kid and envious of other kids who have brothers and sisters. i remember every night i would talk to God and ask Him to give me a sister, in specific. He gave me a little brother instead. I was grumpy and I complained, but later I knew that He knew that this little boy is perfect for me. i was disappointed when i first saw him at the nursery. he was not as cute as everyone else, he was red, and hairy and slimy and dirty, literally. he was not an adorable baby. he was fragile and sickly, and he was incubated for days. he was so small and so delicate. when i first held him, i promised to be the best sister i could. i was nine then, and that was a big promise to keep. what would a nine year old do to be the best sister? i would watch him sleep. i was always eager to carry him in my arms. he was so small and helpless. he was a gift.

years passed, he grew up, and became a rowdy kid. but one thing always remained, he was sweet and thoughtful and loving. i'm not a perfect sister, we would always fight and fight and fight some more. it's ridiculous that he even threatened to kill me. now you can imagine how terrible i am as a sister. i promised to be there for him in whatever, to help him when he needs to, but sometimes, no make it most of the time, i get irritated and pestered and annoyed by his presence. i help him only when he grovels. i am a hideous sister, while he's been so loving. it was only at night when i get the chance to make him feel that i love him. when i hold his hand and hug him. he's really persistent when he asks me to sleep beside him which i always turn down. but when i do, it's always so precious to be with him, and see him smile when he says his good night and whispers i love you.

he's ten now, and growing up so fast. it's fun being a kid, i know cause i've been there. but i can say that growing up with the kind of mother we have is not easy and fun. we both know that we have to follow every rule, to do whatever is asked and to keep our mouths shut even if we're trying to make a point. i watch my brother go through the stern rules of our mother, and i know how it feels and how difficult it is to submit to her demands and expectations. i can't do anything salvaging for my brother, it's tight here at home. i know i can't be bold, but being discreet can make him feel that he's not alone, and that i am here. we are siblings, and he is my responsibility. i can only tell him to avoid the mistakes i've done and to do better when it's his turn.

i told him, "never answer back". something i failed to do. "when you're mad and when you can no longer hold it, take a pillow instead and pour out your anger into it." it's not something wise or thoughtful or something "sagacious", but it was a reminder i could have used for myself if i was only prudent and discerning enough before. the moment i snapped my words the first time, my relationship with my mother crumbled and was never like it was before. i don't want that to happen to him.