There was once a little girl. She was born in a golden era, so to speak, when we still had faith in our leaders. She wasn’t an only child – far from it. She had numerous siblings, older ones. Still does. Later on there would be one younger sibling, so for some time she was the ‘baby.’
She always had that inexplicable special something no one could duplicate… or try to. Everyone recognized it, though they reacted to it in different ways:
Her elder sisters would bully her, naturally. Her eldest brother was nothing but gracious to her. But then again, he’d always been that way to everyone. Everyone loves him. Her second eldest brother was her nemesis. But then again, he’d always been that way to everyone. Everyone loves him too.
Her elder sisters would mother her all the time, but she always had that certain independence. They would push her around, but she always came out on top because her iron will was a force to be reckoned with. She always absolutely adored her eldest brother, who was always the perfect example of what, and how, a big brother should be. The other elder brother though, as much as she loved him, tested her patience to the max. He once lifted her up under a tree and made her grab a low branch and hold on to it. He then pushed a basin full of water under her flailing feet and left her hanging there.
Oh, and don’t think it was all good with her younger brother. She had to change his diapers, feed him, watch over him…… in short, everything an older sibling has to do for their younger sibling[s] but detests every minute of. Not only that, but once he was older and big enough to be a real challenge he thanked her for all those years of selfless servitude by grabbing her by her hair and dragging her all over the living room floor. She got instant gratification though because their Mom & Dad lit his ass up for doing that, amid warnings of never to lay hands on a female. The point was well taken.
Despite sometimes having a temper not unlike, but not quite like, basictastes’, she always represented everything that was good, and loyal, and pure, and loving; to say the least. She was always a Christian but never too heavenly-minded to be any earthly good, like the saying goes. She was always there for everyone, still is, though she let ‘em have it if they were out of line – if WE were out of line.
I always called her my little sister, though she’s a little older than I am. Hey, she’s the youngest of my sisters, what? Justifiable term of endearment, I say.
She climbed MT. Kenya once, braved the Maragua dust all her life, endured my brothers’ taunts, learned to drive Dad’s 1970 Datsun pickup – not easy, believe me, sneaked out sometimes in the evenings but always had me as her chaperon, played field hockey in High School and College and was great at it, convinced yours truly that ‘Push It’ by Salt & Pepper wasn’t exactly a song you could sing just about anywhere, and generally watched over yours truly since day zero and still calls me “kid” to this day.
Life really is as fleeting as the wind, coz all those memories are still as fresh in my mind like it was just yesterday. And you know what, that little girl just got married this past weekend.
Congratulations, S. Love you.