The Rest Were Able To Go Because One Stayed Behind

How ironic that the most adventurous, the most vivacious, energetic and active one stayed behind so the rest can have their adventures. This is the case of my sister Beck. As a child, she was the one who did the fun things. She continued doing them as a young college student and adult. She was a cheer leader, she danced, she sang, she even joined beauty pageants - and won. She did community services and went to the the most rural places where there were no roads, she and her friends had to walk for several kilometers from the highway. There she taught mathematics to rural schoolchildren in the summer. When she came back home the people gave her a young white chicken which we then named after the town.

Like most of my sisters and brothers, she is a math major. She has a knack for making friends and keeping them for a very long time. They adore her. When my father died and later my mother, the school principal declared it a holiday so the faculty and students can attend their funerals. My sister had a pen pal from New Zealand when she was fourteen years old and to this day they still write to each other, by snail mail.

She is an industrious and hardworking woman. She acted as a sort of quartermaster of our house when we were growing up. Later, one by one we left home for our adventures. We encouraged her to go too but she stayed behind. She said, someone had to care for our aging parents. Care, she did. My parents were getting older and our father became bedridden for three years from a stroke. There are no nursing homes in the Philippines, so we converted our family room to a hospital room for my father. My sister managed a household of maids, 24-hour nurses and midwives, her young daughter and my aging mother. They also had a kennel of lap and guard dogs, a yard with gardens. This she did while she worked full time as a high school mathematics teacher.

So while the rest of us went places far from home, Beck stayed behind. A loving, gentle and kind woman. In the evenings and weekends we use to hear her practice for her singing competitions and in my mind I still hear her belting out "I've got you under my skin...I've got you..." or "Begin the Beguine..." We would imitate her and sometimes it turned into a chorus except unlike her, I can't sing.

For all those later years in my parents' lives when they succumbed to age or illness, my sister made it comfortable for them. In the US, I never once worried about who will take care of my parents at home, a worry that some of my friends had to hurdle here. I know she will not consider it a sacrifice but my sister Beck forgo her adventures, and yet she never complained. She never felt it was unfair. We all loved our parents, but I think one stands out in doing so, my sister Beck.

Last week I sent her an email. I was being vain about my graying hair. She replied: "...well all of us are golden boys and girls now. I had gray hairs after Nanay died. Probably I had them earlier but was too busy taking care of them, I didn't have time to look at the mirror. My friends tell me to dye my hair light brown for a change but..."

If she ever looks at herself in the mirror now, she may see what I see, a beautiful woman inside and out. I love my sister and I am not the only one who is grateful for everything she has done for our parents, The Viking is too.

Now we have come full circle. Those of us who went away on our adventures, now "go home" to my sister Beck. She is our anchor. Her home is our "home". I love you Inday Beck. You shed so many tears not just for yourself, but for us too.

Thank you.