Friday, May 20, 2005


In one of the albums at home, there is a black and white photograph of me and my sister on our way to school. Both of us wearing the same dresses, carrying the same school bags, with our hair in pigtails. There was only a year between my sister and I, and when we were much younger, people sometimes thought that we were twins.

Growing up together wasn't always easy. I remember many tumultuous days. Fights and arguments, we could never agree on games. My sister's dolls were always well-cared for whereas mine ended up looking like snakes had gotten in their hair. My sister was light on her feet and I was slow. She climbed trees, while I watched from below. She would run ahead of me to school, while I sat on the top of the footpath wailing for her to come back and get me or else I would tell on her.

I must have been quite a trial to her. Even though she was only a year older, my parents made her responsible for me. When I look back, I realize how incredibly selfish little girls can be, and I think how irritating it must have been for her not to be able to go off and do her own thing without me hanging onto her leg and holding her back.

I have another memory of my sister, from when we are much older. When I am starting out as a writer and she comes with me to my first writer's workshop. Sitting there among all the published writers, holding my draft in my shaking hands, I take comfort from my sister's presence.

I also remember all the nights that we spent lying in bed together, inventing stories. I don't remember anymore what the stories were about, I only remember that the darkness was always filled with a certain mystery. It was enticing and captivating and when it got scary, my sister was always there in the bed next to mine.

We used to bicker a lot, about books, about politics, religion. Conversations that said: "Don't touch my side of the room." Arguments which we finally resolved by ignoring all words said in the heat of the moment.

Someone on a forum that I went to said, stone sharpens stone...or something to that effect. My sister sharpened me. When I look at the world around me, I realize how priceless a sister can be. We don't always agree about everything, but I would trust her with my life.


Post a Comment

<< Home