My Older Sister

February  3 , 2004. This was the day I made it into this planet we call Earth.  My mother said that I didn't cry that much when I was born, but how would she know, she was all drugged up from the medicine they gave her. When everything was settled, I was brought home to meet my two older siblings. When we got there, my mom let my sister hold me as she went and did something else. My sister was 12 at the time and was pretty excited to meet me, my brother was only 6 so, he didn't care much. He simply ignored me and kept playing with his toys. 

The first year of my life was pretty hard. My mother had developed a post-pregnancy depression a week after I was born. It got so bad that she wouldn’t take care of me anymore, she would leave it to my sister. My mother would stay in her room all day and would only come out to use the bathroom and cook dinner. She did that everyday for a year. Eventually throughout the years, she got better but she still didn’t take care of me. By that time, it had seemed that my sister was more of my mother than my mom. I couldn’t ever get mad at my mother though, she had her reasons for being sad. One memory that stuck in my head when I was 3 and my sister and I were at a store and a lady stopped my sister if I was my sister’s daughter. My sister was sixteen at the time was very shocked when she heard the question comes out of the lady’s mouth, but my sister simply said no and the lady and my sister laughed. Till this day I still don’t understand why that memory is stuck in my head. Maybe I was just so used to looking at my sister as a mother that I had forgotten who my real mother was. 

 I feel like when a mother gives birth to her baby and she holds them for the first time, I feel like they truly have a connection the way a mother and child should have. I never got that. I never truly had a connection with my mother. My mother was a blur in my younger years, but like I said, I was never mad at her because of it. 

Growing up we didn’t have much money. We used to live in this tiny green trailer, it used to be white but my mom painted it green, she liked the color green. We lived in that house until I was 2. We moved to another trailer home, except that this one was much bigger than the other one. It was blue and had a nice small yard. My mother eventually painted it green like she always did. There was a park nearby and my sister would always take me and we’d play all afternoon.  I really liked that trailer, it was my favorite home we’d ever lived in. That was the only place that felt like home. We lived there until I was seven.

I know you’re probably wondering about my father. Yes, my father was in the picture, he just wasn’t really present all the time. He was always at work trying to provide for us. When he was home he was either working on something or drinking a beer. I didn’t like it when my dad would drink. He would never get drunk but I didn’t like that he was destroying his body like that. I never got mad at him, he had his reasons for drinking.

I hated my brother when I was younger. He hated me too. It was mutual but, there was still a moment that I enjoyed being his sister. I remember we used to make up games and play them all day or we’d go on “adventures”. Even though they were silly memories, I hold those moments close to me. Although when we grew up a little more,  we became closer and have a great relationship now. Sometimes he can be stubborn and can have his moments where you’d want to punch him in the face. I never got mad at him though, he had his reasons for being mad.

I hated moving. Moving meant leaving friends behind and adapting to a new environment, but I had no choice. The new home my parents bought was a tan color and had an ugly front yard, but within six month my mother had painted it green and my father fixed the front yard. This left us with no money for back to school shopping. My parents tried their best to get us the supplies we needed but we couldn’t get all of the stuff. So instead we tried to use stuff from the house. My sister was working at a laundry place and was trying to save up money so that she could pay for school, she wanted to be a real estate agent. When she found out that we needed school supplies, she took my brother and bought everything we need. After that she took us to buy new shoes, it was a big bill for everything she had bought us but she didn't care. She just wanted us to have everything she didn't have. I always admired my sister for that. 

My sister eventually became a real estate agent but she couldn’t move out of the house. She saw that parents were always struggling to pay the bills, so she saw that staying was the best decision for the family. My sister always did stuff like that, I can see why parents liked her so much. Even though my sister was great, she had her moments where she wasn’t the sister I knew. Sometimes she would yell at me and call me names or get me trouble for stuff I didn’t do. I would never get mad at her though, she had her reasons for exploding at people. 

I am ten years old now, my family is still the same. My mom is still my mom. My dad is still my dad. My brother is still my brother. My sister is still my sister and I am still me. I developed a better relationship with my mother and my brother, and my sister and I still have a good relationship. Im very thankful for my family for everything they have done. I feel bad when I get mad at my sister for small stuff. I hope she doesn't get mad at me though, I have my reasons for lashing out on her.