Siblings

Yay~ my bro bought me a new phone! What a gleeful day.

I have the best bro ever. Since time immemorial, he has been helping me sort out all my devices. I never knew much about phones, but I try to make the fullest use of them to my knowledge. My requirements are always simple – “I want a colour phone” in 2009 when everyone already had their screen in colour for the longest time and I was still using a black and white 😀 ; and then “something I can play games with” in 2010 just before I move into a village lifestyle in Shanghai. Following that was just a matter of colour choices – “gold” or “pink”, and he (or my dad as the courier) would  bring them to me when they visit.

I never had to think much, because he knows me better than myself, and they would always be perfect. On other matters, he has been a wonder protector of me, as I/we know my weakness of extreme naivety, and he has always been my rear mirror with massive brakes.

My mom, on the hand, seems to view our dynamics very differently. I was just joking about my bro’s event (another humongous one in the range of thousands of pax) one day and my mom (rather seriously) warned me not to laugh at him. Hmmm. Have I been mean? No, I doubt I ever did. I have been the kindest sister, and I have the utmost respect for him and what he does (he’s like a bigger-hearted version of me!) and I am really proud of him. So it really got me thinking about the topic of communication and perspectives all over again.

I am half-hoping she had mistaken me for my sis in that split second. My sis is mean! Endearingly mean, but mean nonetheless! She labels me a bimbo since the day she learnt that term, and taught her son to say “姨姨,笨笨”  (which means “aunt, stupid”) when I am up to my nonsense antics. Amazingly, these words don’t sting at all, because we know it was intended to be an endearing form of tease, and I know very well that she has full respect for me in my professional career, my accomplishments and my sense of things. So I guess everyone shows their love differently, and naturally everyone takes the profession of love differently too.

I do get curious at the same time, the times when I wonder(ed) if we were really brought up in the same family because our memories and perceptions of events are so different! Or maybe I should just be very proud and grateful for our parents who brought us up as individuals of who each one of us really are, instead of squeezing all of us into the family mould of who we “ought to be”.

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