It was the third day of spring. I was sitting in the passenger’s
seat talking away the drive. I’d been so long since her and I had been on a
night out alone. But there we were, headed to a day of errands, a late dinner
and a movie.
We were discussing an upcoming trip to NYC and when it would
be best to take it before or after the wedding. And the subject turned to
Wedding. I took over the conversation asking her a million questions. I always
valued her opinion most of all. She knew me better than most of all. And as the
unofficial Mexican Martha Stewart, her opinions truly mattered.
So I spilled over on wedding colors, and decoration likings.
Flower arrangements and mental lists of prices. I rambled on about seating
arrangements and list of guests. Never noticing that the more I spoke the more
she responded less and less. Her mood heavy, a tear was shed. So crazed into my
future I’d forgotten my present. It was in that moment she looked at me and
said:
“I’ll miss you.”
There was pain in her eyes. I cringed as I watched her clear
her throat. She was immediately uncomfortable for that sign of weakness. That
was her way. But I heard it, and it meant the world to me. I smiled gathering
up the courage.
“So what color?” She asks, concentrating again on the road,
not giving me a chance to respond. She narrowed her eyes and gripped the steering
wheel harder. And I knew that was my cue to move on. She wasn’t one to show
weakness, or emotion, her kind of love was felt in action. Few “I love you’s”
ever crossed her lips. So when she said something, it was rare but it was
truthful and heartfelt.
Later that night, as she was immersed into the film in front
of us, I got lost in her laughter, in her lighthearted way, and in the gleam of
her eyes. She was so beautiful. So absolutely enchanting. And I couldn’t help
but wonder if she knew how much I loved her.
Growing up we had a huge gap in ages. I was her bratty
little sister, clinging to her by order of mom and not her own wish. When the
years progressed we were never partners in crime or confidants but we were each
other’s most reliable source. She always had my back and I had hers. It was an
unwritten law, and unspoken law, but it was law nonetheless.
We were very different. I was a social butterfly who lived
on a cloud. And she was a realist who dreamed meekly. And when it came to love,
well we, we were very different on that matter too. I was more my father’s
child in that way, in love with love. With me you could always tell who I was
interested in. Even as a child I had my life planned around what I thought love
would grant me. Silly notions and silly thoughts. But she, well she was more
reserved.
And even though it was the case, there were a couple
suitors. But for some reason or another, most unaware to me she never found the
right man. She set high standards for herself and was much more preoccupied with
the enlighten of herself than the search of another’s heart. I loved that about
her. Society… not so much. We come from a background where Everyone gets
married. And Everyone has kids. The definition of what it was to be a woman in
my family. But she never let stereotypes get in the way. She was of a strong
character, one who made her in my eyes not as weak as I. I’ve always admired
her for that.
The years went on and eventually all her girlfriends married
one by one. And I finally became of age to gain her as a friend. And where I
went she followed. I grew sick in 2008 and she was irrevocably tied to me. She slept
on the floor of a hospital for a year showing me how much she loved me. It was
such a selfish time I took from my family then. She gave up all her free time
to help ease the burden of taking care of me. And she became more than a sister;
she was a nurse, almost a second mother. Never nagging for a second putting her
life on hold for me.
Those 5 years took a hard toll on all of us. My condition
though eventually became more manageable. Slowly I took the reins back from my
family and from her. And slowly I ventured, heart in hand, out into the world
again. I found out with all the extra baggage it wasn’t as easy as when I was
young and healthy and vibrant. So I gave up on love, and on myself. I
concentrated solely on my close friends and family, and the bond between my
sister and I grew stronger. It was unspoken, but we knew that we’d grow old
together. We began planning our lives again, trips, and goals to reach. And I think
she knew I’d never leave her side. It was comforting in a way, to know that you’d
always have someone beside you, who you could share the ups and downs of life
with for the rest of your days.
In the past couple of months though, love gave me one last
blessing, unexpectedly when I let go of the wheel I ended up right where I belonged.
And in the shape of a wonderful man I found out there was still one last story
left in me. One last enchanting and beautiful future. One that him and I are
writing at the time, and will soon seal and sign.
My sister is happy for me, as is the rest of the family. But
it wasn’t till she said those words that I realized my happiness was
bittersweet for her. And so, for me. Because though my future is bright, and it
makes me overjoyed to think about. There’s also the realization that I leave
behind a loving home, and a loving sister, friend, and one of the women I hold
most dear.
She’ll always be a part of my life. She’ll always hold a
much bigger part of my heart than she’ll ever know. But reality is things won’t
be the same. They can’t be. I’ll be married at the end of the year and will
start a whole new role in my own life. And she, well she’s got her own life to
live, places to venture off to and people to love, hold, and cherish. And these
years, the years of our early life, they’ll be warm memories to hold in our
hearts, to esteem once our hair is gray and our youth is long gone.
It’s finally late in the evening when we are heading back
home. I’ve gotten sick over something I ate again, and she’s rushing me home
for meds. I climb into bed finally, agonizing in pain. She walks in turns my
lamp on. And hands me a cup of tea. She asks if I want her to sleep with me. I
decline and tell her to rest. She’s halfway to the doorway wishing me a good
night and I finally say…
“I’ll miss you too… I love you”
She looks back and smiles.
“Love you more.”
“Love you most.”
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