for ivy

her father sold his motorcycle when she was born. this was to get her room airconditioned. her older sister's nanny was now hers: as she was more tiny and needed more pampering. and she looked like her mother, fair and beautiful.

once upon a time, there was a girl who dreamt of domestic bliss. she dreamed this during a time when children were expected to dream of wearing corporate suits and climbing corporate ladders. dreaming to be a doctor or a lawyer would not have been bad too. yet she dreamed of house cleaning and doing the laundry.

being the youngest of a brood of 3, she was often teased for being a crybaby. yet she was loved, like nobody in the family was loved before. it seemed she always got her way, but it was more because somebody else always gave way. she did not ask for it; she was just lovable. even kids smaller than her adored her.

the girl loved to draw. she could draw anime characters, but mostly without eyes. she'd say she would ruin the drawing if she drew the eyes too.

and she loved dogs. and would have liked to own several. and thought not just once of becoming a dog breeder.

and boy, she loved dressing up. she always took care of how she looked. and she could not have enough clothes or shoes, or bags or accessories. it did not matter that these things would fill up her room, nothing would really be appropriate for any given occasion.

as much as possible, the girl was always protected from life's harsh realities. but her battles would not always be fought for her. that's just the way it was. if it had been otherwise, things would have been less fun for her.

so she learned to love, hate and love deeper. she learned loyalty and friendship. she learned hard work and shame. she learned how to hold on and how to let go. she learned to have fun and live life. she learned to sing. and she learned how to cook.

the girl grew up to be a very beautiful person. and is still growing up, continually learning new things.

looking at her 24 years past, God has been faithful. i have always been subtly protective of her (fine, it might have been very obvious at times) and i wait in silent excitement as i watch how her life continues to unfold, all by God's grace.

this is for the girl who will always be my little sister. and i write for her because she forgets easily, unintentionally, readily. a happy birthday to a sorely missed and dear friend, my shobe.