My brother Ramon
At six years old, I excitedly stood in front of the nursery room. I tried to catch the nurse's attention as she struggled with the crying babies. I turned to my father, who was as eager as I am, and asked him for the name card and flashed it against the glass window. Seconds later, a cute baby boy lying on his crib was presented to us. He greeted us with yawns.
My heart filled with love, I wanted to come near him, put him in my arms and whisper, “Hello baby brother."
Eleven years have gone so quickly and now, that adorable baby boy is taller than me. Then, he morphed into an annoying machine who runs on lifetime batteries whose main features include torturing me.
Being an elder sister is quite challenging. Some may think that because you're older, you are in control and can manipulate the younger siblings. Well, think again. My brother, for example. My supposed to be perfect day starts out sunny and according to plan. Then, he steals my TV hours, bothers my study time and rampages the refrigerator until almost no food is left. That would ruin my day. He would beg him to help him with his homework because I would mercifully solve it for him and starts acting as if he knows the answers. Some would want to resign from being a sister, but you know what, I won't.
Blood is denser than water. Yes, he may give me butt pains but when he gets all sentimental and brotherly, he goes bull's eye at my weak point.
One night, I heard him talking on the phone. At first I thought he was bragging about how he captured a legendary character with a master ball in this Pokemon game he plays. But, I later heard him brag how I graduated in high school with honors and how I write decent articles. During my birthday, he surprised me with a handmade card with colorful stickers and a poem he made.
I didn't realize how he treasured the moments when I would sit down beside him and help with his homework. This is one of those times when this annoyed 17-year-old becomes a big sister to a wonderful baby brother.
Mom always told me that I should not be jealous of my brother. I am, too, a victim of sibling rivalry, but not in an intense degree. There were times I wondered why he gets higher grades even if he spends more time flicking the remote control than the pages of his text books. There were times I wondered why he could easily play tunes on piano even if he heard the song just once, while I end up with a disfigured noise. But, a sister like me who has an incredible and talented brother should be more proud and less envious.
I could not imagine being an only child. Not that it's boring or resentful because you got all the attention and love of your parents, but because of these simple reasons. It's yummier to eat with a sibling even if you would get only a half of what you both are eating (or a fourth of it you are four siblings in the family). It's more exciting to play chess with someone who laughs at your wrong moves and you won't get hurt that much. It's more fun to wake up every morning with an annoying eleven year old saying you look horrible and your breath stinks. It's more meaningful to live a lifetime with someone calling you ate, manang, kuya, toto, or inday all throughout.
Today is my brother Ramon's birthday. I am sure this mushy article of mine won't change anything in our ruthless arguments and remote control debates but this will remind my little brother of how much I appreciate him, of how much my life was made more colorful now that he's around.
It was eleven years ago that I became a sister.
I will forever be one.
Happy 11th Birthday Ramon Ariel Ken M. Garcia!
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