Whence doth thy strength arise?

I marvel at your being, dear beautiful creature.

Two sisters. Paul Gauguin 1892

I don't know when it struck me but I know it's been lingering in me for years because you were my first muse. I remember scribbling in my “creative note” the first time it occurred to me that this is what I should be doing, I remember struggling to find the perfect words to describe you, I wanted to write verses of the different facets of your being and how they all add up to this captivating creature that you are.

I remember getting stuck after coughing up a measly poem with four stanzas, my vocabulary was stark and deficit, it vexed me in ways I couldn't explain, that this one time I wanted to devote myself to creating a masterpiece, my inadequacy had once again placed its foot at the door of my satisfaction.

After scrupulously replacing words with what I thought were more befitting synonyms —this required several days bending over that hard cover note that had softened by months of constant use, writing, rewriting, and striking out, but no matter — I gave up, pacifying myself with the conviction that I wasn't mature enough to understand and therefore describe this unfathomable grandness you carry.

I told myself I would grow into a person who would come back to write it the way it is supposed to be written, despite my lack of a standard for comparison.

Maybe it was the glint in your eyes as you listened to my dreams and woes, maybe it was the unabashed, unbridled concern you showed at the slightest inconvenience you found any of us in. Maybe it is how you're programmed (by nature and environment) to provide solutions, maybe it is the fact that, of your own volition, you can morph into a personal information bank just so we don't have to worry about losing important details.

Maybe it is the way in mere seconds, you shapeshift into the needs of people that surround you, even when it is not required of you, maybe it is the way even when the logic of being the light is dismissible, you always find a way to make everything around you brighter, even if it is as little as a flicker.

I hope that the awe of your strength and tenderness is never lost on you. I hope that your life always aligns to make you see how the fragments of your kindness in words, thoughts, and actions meld into the beautiful kaleidoscopic image that is you.

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This is dedicated to all the elder sisters —and elder brothers if that applies to you — out there. Those who morph into friends, therapists, role models, board of directors, mothers, fathers, and whatever the heck their younger siblings need at any particular moment. Those who stretch so they can see what lies ahead for those coming after them, those who put in the effort to make paths easier for their younger ones (their children before their children) I celebrate you, your kindness, your perseverance, and your love.

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I tried inputting the first draft where I wrote about the often overlooked sacrifices of elder sisters but there's just something about the obstinacy attached to writings in definitive phases of one’s life, it refuses to meld into this current phase I'm in and I've made peace with that.

To make up for the draft that was not included, I decided to do a deep-dive research and I came across some profoundly enlightening research that was done on sibling relationships and how it affects one’s self identity. I can’t find the any of the links now but when I do I’ll share them with anyone who’s interested.

Also, this was so unplanned that as soon I finished writing the drafts in my note, I immediately brought it here and wanted to hit the ‘publish’ button as opposed to my normal routine of writing and letting it sit for months. I love the spontaneity, maybe because I got to experience the thrill of writing from a place of urgency. I do not know when I’ll be here again but I’m glad that I get to share this with you.

Melody For Us:

P.S: I miss writing to you.