Sep 1, 2013

#46. Brother

I have always wanted to write something about you for so long. Maybe ever since I started I learned how to write, but when I do, I seem to just run out of words somewhere in the middle, and I end up with an unfinished piece. I cannot seem to put one cohesive piece about you, and all I could write about you are fragments which do not tell much of a story. Now that we’re both older, I’m beginning to realize that if I just summed up all those little stories about you I’ve written in the past and scraped off, maybe I would have put up one solid piece about you already.

On the other hand, I also suppose- maybe it’s how you are meant to be told about, broken down into portions, short, brief, incomplete- however you call it. After all, there is some strange beauty and a mystifying clarity with something presented in isolated portions. Just like those Haikus and Proverbs in the bible. And yet again, I wonder, maybe you are not meant to be told about at all. But that’s too harsh because I smile more than I frown when I think about what we’ve gone through ever since. You will always deserve to be told about. So here is yet another attempt to do so.

And you may never come across this literature in this lifetime, but as I’ve always said, I’m working my way in the real world to let you know that I am very thankful to have you as my brother. Growing up with you was never easy, as we used to fight and argue a lot, just like what we see in the movies. Looking back, what we used to argue about were mundane things, and it’s really the frequency that made us drift apart. Had our conflicts been less frequent but came in a more serious gravity, then I think we still would have ended the same- walled up and so contained. So in the end, I probably wouldn’t want to put it any other way. We would just end up to where we used to be, anyway.

Until the disease came.

When I was in my death bed, you held my hand and looked after me. The first thing you told me was it’s going to be okay. Although we both knew then that It’s hard to think about what “okay” meant. You told me many times about how you wished that it was just you who got it. You never questioned. You didn’t even ask. You just whispered tender words. In a snap of a finger, you were my guardian angel. You never complained, you just stuck with me. And when I was in the brink of giving up, you just kissed my forehead and told me “hindi ka Niya iiwan”. You told me to be strong. And when I told you that my vision was starting blur, you tried your best not to sound too scared and just said “I will see you there”. But I guess I’m one of the luckiest people on earth, I’ve survived. Maybe it was God’s way of putting our senses back on track and making us realize what so much we have that we have always took for granted- each other.

And when things have been finally repaired for me, I saw in you that look of worry, sadness, anxiety and even envy that I finally have to go back to the life I used to have. While I know you are thankful that I am back on track, I can see you worry that I might get so walled up again, which I am so guilty of. I used to blame you solely why we drifted apart, but I realize that it always takes two to tango, and that I also have my fair share of blame.

Again, this is one of those pieces that I just couldn’t finish. But I am not scraping this off this time. I am leaving it here as I have written. I will let this haunt me until I finally get the courage to finish this one up.

For now, let me just say Thank you... 

You know how much I love you...

1 comment:

  1. i didn't know that you had that kind of experience. you're indeed blessed. Blessed for having a second chance in life and for having a wonderful brother that loves you so dearly.