“The greatest gift our parents gave us was each other.“ (somewhere on the web ...)
Last night, I dreamed that I was adopted. It was one of those dreams that felt so realistic. There was this woman who wanted money from my dad and she told me she was my real mother if he doesn’t pay. I confronted my parents (who paid her but she told me the horrid news anyway), and they could not lie. They didn’t confirm, but they didn’t deny it, either. So, I guess it was settled: I was adopted.
Then, I came to you, sorela, and I said “Hey, now I have three sisters. My ‘real’ mother has two other daughters, so I have you and I have them.” And you said: “Yeah, but I am the real one.” And the dream unraveled ...
And you were right. Even if this would ever be true (we know it’s not, of course), you will forever be my one, true, real sister.
While writing this, I realize that although we’re so far apart in space, you are still so close to me: I am wearing two necklaces: one, a wood one with earth crystals that you gave to me to heal my energy and give me strength and focus, allegedly. The other one, a silver one, that grandpa bubu gave to me at the same time he gave you the same necklace. I was maybe 7 and you were 4. He always bought us matching stuff. Remember the watches he got us to put on our chain?! I am drinking coffee from the mug you gave me that says “Your love and your understanding are a gift in my life but there are times when you know that all I need is a hug.” You’re everywhere and always with me. Every day. Every breath.
Rummaging through my memories this morning, I thought of all the times we were together through our lives: every new pore, every new hair, every new cell on our adult bodies grew on our kids’ bodies with us side-by-side ... We were together for our playtime, and every dinner, every holiday, birthday, funeral and christening ... All the major events and the little ones, like when we went to the mountains for the first time. Or maybe that was a major one? We were together for mushroom and berry picking and for bandaging your wounds when they got infected or needed stitches. We were there when we fell in love for the first time and when we fought like mad cats over stupid little things ...
We were together for the starry nights and the sunrises, for the walks on the beach and the hikes in the pastures. We were together in London and in New York City ... We were together for our weddings and the kids’ christenings.
We shared our joys and our insecurities over all of the first 20 years of your life ...
Life came in the way, as it has done this year, too, and we were not together for other major events after it cast us in two different corners of the world. But in some ways I feel like our bond got stronger and our love deeper. Our get-togethers are more meaningful now, and so concentrated in chats, emotions, catching up, making new memories to last us till our next visit . And this year we’re learning painfully that we can’t even plan that much craved, and much needed “next visit”...
I love how you love me for all my bumps. I know I drive you nuts with all my nagging, but as I always tell you: it all comes from a place of love and from an insane fear that something bad will happen to you if you don’t listen to me. And then ... I don’t know where I’ll be, for I’d have no bearings, no identity without you right there, besides me ...
Yes, indeed, you are my real sister. As real as these hands that I use to type this with. As real as my heart. May you always and forever be healthy, safe, loved, and always full of life. A life, an optimism, a calm, and a peace that God put all in you and, with all the blessings he has given me, skimped on me, all things that I need to keep going ...
Happiest of birthdays. Miss you this year extra more super special than any other time. You’ve got my heart. Forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment