Snowdrops for Ike

I’ve been told not to worry so much. Thinking about the future doesn’t help. What’s on my mind currently? I am about to meet someone I haven’t seen for 2 years and 7 months. Guess who? My 30-year-old eldest sister from US. No big deal about that, but it feels weird meeting someone whom you’re supposed to feel close to, and yet, I feel unsure of how I’m supposed to feel. She hasn’t really been a part of my life so far. Leaving home 10 years ago, she left me during the years I was growing up. Only have seen her 4 times in a decade, the bond isn’t so strong. I only remember how fierce she was, how scared and intimidated I became when I was young. She was my first role model to do well in academics, I looked up to her because she was smart, she could do anything, everything. To her, the sky was the limit. But as I grew up, having lived without her, I realise brains is not everything. Being brilliant doesn’t score the highest marks. Doesn’t give you happiness every time. I wasn’t happy, wasn’t proud of who I aspired to become, like my eldest sister. I was setting ambitious goals, leaving no room for disappointments. I had to draw confidence from achievements. Not surprisingly, confidence level fell each time goals were not achieved. And it was difficult, learning from each tumble down the ladder of success. That happened to me, and I decided not to be like my eldest sister anymore. She sacrificed her family to chase her dreams. As a result, her little sister doesn’t know her anymore. Not that well, at least. I am sure she’s trying. But I would try harder. Now, it drives me nuts thinking how am I going to cope seeing her again on my own. I’m facing a challenge of proving to her that her youngest sister has her own identity, individuality and that I do not need to follow her footsteps. I have my own way, own decisions. The eldest should lead, but not impose. It is nerve-wrecking. Sometimes I wish she is not coming to London. On the other hand, I don’t know when I will see her again. I don’t like the thoughts of family members separating. I don’t want her to stay there forever. Home is Kajang, where Ike is. Where childhood memories and old photographs are. I don’t see how opportunities are as cosy as the companion of Papa and Mama. As happy as the 3 sisters with the same initials: Ivy, Irene & Iris Chung. As funny as seeing old teachers trying to remember our faces and names. What is going to happen 10 years down the line? I hope she comes home. And finds that our house is still standing.