Our little girl

I know you don’t like it when Papa tells you, “Maaram  ka, Carrie,  ikaw  it  akun  only girl,  ikaw  it  akun  little girl” (You know, Carrie, you’re my only girl, you’re my little girl). You always give him this nasty look, as if to say, “I’m not a little girl anymore!” I have always thought there was no point in your dismissing his words because they were true. You were always going to be our  bunso,  the scrawny kid we could always pick on.

But now I’m forced to reevaluate that notion.

One of my biggest regrets in life is not being a real  kuya  to you. I have been away from you in the past five years, and the distance was too great for me to have a real presence and influence. I was never there when you had problems to talk about or assignments you needed help with. And I even missed the fact that you have indeed grown up to be a sweet young woman.

So, I ask that you give me the opportunity, especially on your special day, to say a few things. Allow me to give you a few insights, things I have always wanted to tell you if only I had the chance.

First is that you have grown up to be a wonderful person. Where else can you see someone with so many fine qualities? You recently graced YouTube with your mellow violin covers, which instantly put a smile on everyone’s face. Beauty and stunning looks are not wanting whenever you are in a crowd, and you even have your own trademark pouting pose! You are not afraid to speak your mind when you have an opinion on something. More importantly, you have the drive to pursue your dreams, not just in terms of your personal dream of becoming a pharmacist or a doctor, but also in your aspirations for your family and friends.

Yes, you are immensely blessed, but my second message is that you are not perfect. You are human, and we have come to know that our species is not faultless. Never allow yourself to think that you already “are” or that you already have everything. There will always be new places to visit, new people to get to know, new songs to learn. As soon as an apple is ripe, it begins to rot. So, never allow yourself to reach your “peak.”

There will be difficult challenges ahead, and I’m sorry to tell you that the road gets harder from here. Adult life brings with it more problems. You will be confronted with issues that will test your most fundamental beliefs. And the real world’s monstrous face will become more evident each and every day. Acts of corruption, death, hunger and disease will be regular occurrences, especially in the field that you have chosen. The medical field in the Philippines needs a renaissance, especially in a province like Leyte. There are many people who need assistance, and I am proud that you have answered the call to help those in need. Just keep studying as hard as you always have because graduation is just around the corner.

Yes, it will be an uphill climb, but my third and last message is that you are never alone. There are people who will stand by you every step of the way. With every heartbreak, with every sickness, with every stressful day in school, we will always be there.

I don’t always say this, but I love you. We love you. We always have. And I am sure all the people in your life are blessed to know you and cherish all their moments with you. Icoboy, Mama, Papa, and I are the first among all those people. Because no matter how much you deny it, you will always be our little girl, our only girl.

Happy 18th birthday, my dear sister!

Jethro G. Velasco, 21, obtained a management engineering degree from Ateneo de Manila University on a full scholarship. He now works as a finance analyst at a local manufacturing company.