I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

I think it’s normal for siblings to fight for attention. Some of my friends don’t. To be fair, I don’t think most of them fight as much for attention as we did. But as I was often reminded, it was different with us. Not because you were a boy, or because you were younger (which is what I was told when we were small), but because you were sick. Some things just had to default to you, because the consequences of you getting upset were far worse than if I did.

I came back from London once, and the bathroom was a mess. I remember trying to tell you off without Mum hearing, because she was already tired, and this would stress her out more. But she overheard and told you you didn’t have to clean it because she would. And then I got told off for fighting with you. I still bring up to her how ridiculously unfair it was.

The other specific instance I can think of is before you passed. You weren’t doing well and wanted to go on a holiday. But a lot of countries wouldn’t work. One that did was Switzerland. You guys wanted me to come. But it meant that all my plans in Singapore would get disrupted. I don’t even remember if I had plans, but I just wanted to rest. I didn’t want to start Uni on minimal sleep from travelling to a place I didn’t want to go to. But because Mum thought it would help you, I felt like I had to.

But I said no. Mum didn’t tell you I didn’t want to go; she said that I couldn’t. She didn’t want you to be upset with me. I felt torn about it after you passed. If it had made any difference to truly keeping you around, I would have done it. I hope you know that. But I didn’t want to.

A lot of our lives were like that. I was trying to think of specific instances where you got away with things I couldn’t, but I don’t think there were countable incidents. It became a lifestyle. We orbited around you. When you needed space, we were further, but we still orbited as close as possible. I got respite from it when I was in London, but even there, I wasn’t immune. Mum once called me for 3 hours because you had pissed Ammamma off. I called Ammamma and dealt with her. The only person I didn’t call was you, because no one wanted to upset you.

I know I might sound bitter. I think part of me is. This is a very self-centred post, I know that. But it was really how it felt for a lot of the time. A few weeks after you passed, Mum learnt what a glass child was. A sibling who had to be overlooked sometimes because another was sick and needed more. She promptly forgot what it was a few weeks later.

Although you’re not here anymore, I still feel this way so, so often. We’re selling cupcakes for your birthday to fund grief support for families dealing with child bereavement. So I posted it on Instagram. And honestly, I hated so many people suddenly being reminded of what was going on in my life. The first 20 years I spent as the older sister of an unwell brother, and now it’s of an unwell brother who has passed away.

I’m not trying to be resentful. I swear. But so much of life was defined by your illness, and now by your passing. Without work and being in a different country to distract me, it feels all-consuming. Did it feel like this with us? Were we suffocating? Was it the illness? Maybe it was both. I don’t think I could have talked to you about any of this when you were about. The one good thing about you passing is that your illness can’t hurt you anymore. I think it also means I can now be honest with you.

Love you,
Acca