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Happy birthday Cara!



Sunday, September 12, 2012



2

Different but similar
There is this distinct person in my life. We’ve kept a relationship that is no ordinary but to some this story may be boring.

Her name Cara is coined from the Spanish term that means face. It is the only name she wanted to be called but she forgives those who keep calling her Carmilie, her birth name.

We spent our lives almost together. We graduated from the same elementary school. But we had to part for a while when she attended a science high school six hours ride away from home. But distance didn’t hinder whatever we had. It was fortunate since Mother used to asked me to accompany her during card giving. It was for us to be in fickle mode and only to be sad when it was time to receive her card with failing grade.

Then Cara left school and transferred to the trade school downtown. When I got to college, she came along four years later. We lived in one room in a dormitory. At times, she piqued me but I sent off all her peccadilloes sententiously. I can’t understand why it was hard for her to straighten up her locker or her bed. Her things were in every corner. She’d leave undone coffee, unkempt table tops, and topsy-turvy room. In mid-sentence when I scold her, she would butt in with her choleric excuses of waking up late and of course, ending up late for school. The result, we became aphonic towards another for a day but would wake up the next morning with saccharine jokes again.

Then I moved to another dormitory while she stayed. We made stable late afternoons’ treat of biscuits or street foods. If we weren’t able to, weekend campus strolling is a must. If I clown, she was the first to laugh. Her stories of her funny classmates, her boring instructors from the math-physics department, and the vivacious clinical instructors should never be ignored and I had to say something after which, or else.

When she gets knocked down by her quizzes below 60 percent, I am her trying-hard cheerer and ends up her flatterer. Maybe I’m the fan or she the partisan. The books I read when returned to the shelves find its way to her hands. And we’d discuss about the lead character or make up list of verbatim.

But then things began to change. She said she didn’t want to be living under my shadows. I said she was not. She is taking another degree course. In weight, she is lighter. In complexion, she is darker. She got an award for poetry, while I was all busy with my church commitments.

Then a childhood anecdote of hers surfaced. She was six years old then and I was eleven. We had this fighting over a flavor of lollipop, and one time over a biscuit because she wanted another other than mocha. She tells me now that it was all for the reason to be different from me. She didn’t like the mocha because it was what I got and so she cried asking for the vanilla one.

Yet, hearing her classmates and friends mention we have a lot in common. Acquaintances didn’t fail to notice our marked resemblance – of the face, nose, lips and particularly the eyes. They would ask us if we are twins. We smile, which is one thing we just couldn’t do away with. We know in the first place they were joking because of our height disparity. She’s petite while I am chubbier. We are sisters indeed and we have the same genes.

http://www.baguiomidlandcourier.com.ph/animatedme.asp?mode=archives%2F2012%2Ffebruary%2F2-12-2012%2Fanimatedme.txt

SOUL SISTER,

You are always the sister that had been the knower of all my black secrets. Those intrepid ideas that all comes from you makes me think that no other sister can take your place, ever. Those petty quarrels that had us through. My frustration becomes yours and the other way around. My joys are an instant smiles to you. Growing up before each other filled our unwritten diaries. We don’t need constant seeing of each other to find what sisters are we. Thanks though to electronic connection that makes catching up at the bend.

If in times you feel like I pick on you, don’t be hurting. I am so sorry if you feel so. Ok, I won’t do or tell things again. It’s good that you tell me right away.

I like that you share how you gosh over a boy-next-door. Here I am to remind you how fragile the heart if Cupid hits. You’ll find the right beat with that beautiful soul. Love hard when that moment swings in.

You keep moving forward in all the positivity of this big thing called life. I stay behind for a lean. Of course, with the mention of “I” comes the package of all of “U-S.” No one will treasure you as much as I do, as Dad or Mom or Jam or Osip can. God has us in this beautiful family to love and care for each other. 
And again, we look forward to celebrating another twelve months of yours! 

Firewooorks!!! 
All our love,
Your #1 family 





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