Goodbye, my sister

My sister, a close cousin, got married today. Weddings are so tough. Full of ambivalence.

I'm happy for her, and wish her all the luck in the world. She has had a tough childhood, and a tougher adult life. I hope and pray that this new phase in her life brings her lots and lots and lots of happiness.

I couldn't witness the wedding, and yet that ambivalence has crossed the seven or however many seas that lie between us. I'm glad I wasn't there. I'm glad I didn't see the sadness in her parents' eyes. I'm glad I didn't witness their loss.

My sister's wedding was tragic for me. I saw a film on Hallmark channel a few years back. A young guy who had a mental disorder freaks out when he finds out that his elder sister is getting married and leaving their home. That is what I thought of when my sister was getting married. The guy had a disorder that allowed him to express himself. Us "normal" people have to cover up our sadness, just so that we're not misunderstood.

My family broke up that night. From four, we became three. Then on, it was tragic to have her come home for lunch or something, and then leave. Suddenly, overnight, her house was somewhere else. It was heartbreaking.

Looking back, it is true that things changed for the better. Now, from four, we went to five, and now six. I just wish the transition was smoother - the wedding wasn't overnight - maybe if it came with a trial period or something...

Coming back to my sister who got married today - her wedding was long due - so I'm thrilled! It will take time for it to sink in, especially since I did not see it with my own eyes. I am glad I wasn't there - also because the memory of her wedding for me will always be distant, and therefore, perfect.

I am guilty of romanticizing all that lies far away. In actuality I hate attending weddings because of the whole package that comes with it - looking "appropriate", relatives, bad food - what else do you need to say NO? Weddings/family get-togethers were another reason why I left home. I have had enough of them. While writing this I thought that if people back home can create a romanticized/angelic image of me, why can't I do the same and have some fun?

I'm craving to go back, yet some parts of me would rather not.