this morning, i remembered peru.
i remembered when you got sun burnt while on the beach in lima--while i was away at work. and how at the start of our hike i wanted you to put on sunscreen, but your shoulders were so badly burnt you began to cry. a nearby nursing mother heard you, not understanding your words yet knowing your pain, and offered you her breast milk. our guide said fresh milk was known to relieve the pain of sunburn. i wish i could have understood and cared for you as she did.
i also remembered when, after four days of hiking, we finally arrived at our destination. at the sun gate, you declared that you wish you never had to come on that trip with me. i angrily retorted that it was your gift. suddenly saddened, you said you thought mom paid for it all. "just the airfare," i said to win and made your eyes rest on the ground. the conversation ended as a couple in their fifties entered the ruin. the woman looked at you and asked, "if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?" eleven. "an eleven-year-old on the inka trail? wow, i want to shake your hand." i wish i could have been as supportive and praised you like she did.
this morning, i woke up feeling awful.
i remembered when you were just a toddler and mom turned to me and said, "you know, grandma commented on how mean you are to your sister." with concern in her voice, "grandma." i understood the underlying meaning: grandma abused my mom and her siblings; for her to note my treatment to you seemingly made it all the more severe. not that i ever did any of the things grandma did. i never hit you or made you cry. i was just your tormenter, giving you a hard time all the time. but you were just a little girl. i wish i could have been so much gentler and kind.
not being able to sleep this morning and saddened by my wandering thoughts, i forced myself to remember that i was also your official birthday organizer until i moved out of the house. for your first birthday, i made two cakes: one regular and one for you with "frosting" from formula and your little baby cakes stacked high so that you could join in the fun. in the coming years i would design activities for your slew of little friends who would come over to celebrate: pinatas and boat racing, prizes and paddling you around the lake.
i also made your first halloween costume by hand. you were a princess.
i remembered dying of laughter with you on the stairs of our cusco hotel--half from lack of oxygen, half from the joy of hearing keri yelp when she discovered the cockroach in a take out box we left on her doorstep. we woke up half of the hotel with our uncontrollable giggles as we crawled back to our room.
i remembered running half-clothed out of the eucalyptus "sauna" with you somewhere in the clouds, trying to hit the tent without being spotted. of course the zipper failed us and the laughter began.
i remembered when i excused myself to go to the bathroom and you took of running towards it (the only one for miles) and i football-styled tackled you to the ground. we made the porters laugh and couldn't stop ourselves. that was some serious gong show.
i admit i've been less than i should have as a big sister. i've let you down. i haven't been as kind or caring as i should have. i teased you more than needed and knew all of your buttons just so that i could push them. i haven't told you all of the positive things i think of you. and i can't figure out why.
some say that's just how siblings are. but i can't help but analyze myself more deeply. looking back i feel like i was so immature and hurtful. and angry....
but never at you. not really every at you even though it may have seemed that way. i was always secretly impressed by you.
you, who never shied from anyone. even when you were little, you would invariably wander away from the slide or swing and start up a conversation with someone's mom nearby. you weren't afraid to talk with anyone and were always a social butterfly. you made friends with all the kids on the block and always had your days filled, not with crafts and legos alone like i did, but with spending time just hanging out and playing. you still visit some of these friends, even though you moved away years ago.
you, who has always been the caring one. the girl to go to with secrets, seeking advice, and jokes. at least that's the way it's always seemed as i watched you and your friends. oh--and fashion tips and drama, too. you're the girl with the big heart, that you wear upon your sleeve.
you, who could always blow through any math worksheet from school like it was nothing. instead of reading, which you openly detested, you were always above in math even if school never pushed you the way it should have. you never gave yourself enough credit for what you do in class.
it's interesting to watch you grow and realize how nostalgic i am for when you were little and hopeful i am for your future. i ponder (often painfully) when i hurt and when i helped as you grew and envision how i can improve. as i feel depressed by my disappointing moments, i work on brainstorming ways that i can become your go-to, your confidant, your friend, while understanding how very different we are. maybe that camping bike trip on my mind isn't really your style, now that i think about it again....
although i may not articulate it as often as i should or would like, i really do think about you more than you know and love you dearly.
