Because of you, I’ve grown so scared now.
You had scarred me at nine, and I still carry that grief twenty years later. This grief wasn’t healed by time, as people often say. It stayed the same. My body just grew bigger enough to carry it with less weight. You opened the door of death to me, introduced me to a world where loss exists. I remember feeling like I and all my loved ones were invincible. I knew death existed. I’ve seen it in movies. But it surely doesn’t exist in my world. There’s just no way. Until, of course, you happened. I was slapped with the reality of how vulnerable we are, anything could happen to me, my family. No one is safe. I could easily lose anyone forever. And I’ve been scared since then.
At the funeral, I can remember only thinking about the finality of death. I kept on wondering the absurdity of never in my whole life ever seeing you again. Forever sounded such like it’s a long time.
I was nine, forced to grow up so soon. I had to be strong for mommy who was breaking apart, screaming how could a parent be the one burying their child when it should be the other way. And it scared me more, hearing her talk like that because I could never bear to lose her too. I was the one comforting her with words I didn’t even believe or understand but hoped would soothe her. I was the one holding her hand, guiding her in the hospital when she could no longer swallow her food from depression. I was the one stepping in between mommy and daddy, like you used to, when their fights get too rough. I was there through it all, because you weren’t. No one else was.
I will be 29 soon. An age you’ll never reach. Older than you’ll ever be, yet I still look up to you as my big sister. It’s been 20 years since you’ve left. The same number of years you’ve lived. I would have loved to meet the you now, someone who should’ve been twice her age. I wonder if you ever had a child, and who you would’ve married. Many times I think about how my life would’ve been so different with you here.
I’ll be 29, and I’m still so afraid of many things. But now, I know your leaving had taught me to be braver on my own because you were the one I leaned on the most. I always hid behind you, and you always protected me from the world.
Because of you, I’ve grown to learn to be strong, to stand up despite being scared.
I’m going to write about her. When she was alive, and after she died. It’s just my way of remembering her forever.
- Chizuko’s Younger Sister (1991)