Think back, far back to your earliest memories. Think back to who
was there with you. Not your morn. Not your dad. But think about your brother or your sister or your cousin or your pal. What are you doing? Are you
outside, playing, crying,
laughing?
When I think back to my earliest
memories, I feel safe and warm and happy.
I hear my name called,
and it's not Analiza.
Of all the names in the world, I have one favorite.
And it's not goddess
or sweetie or honey or darling.
It's not even Analiza. It's
Ate. Ate in the Filipino language
means big sister as a sign of respect. A special person calls me this name.
I dedicate this speech to this special person.
This special
person is my brother.
After 21 years, it's easy to forget those early memories.
I'd like to share
one of my earliest memories
with you.
My dad was gone most of
the time in the navy, about six months out of the year. So it was my morn that raised us. But even so, I never felt lonely.
I remember one night when my dad was home. I was seven. My brother was five. It was 10 at night and we were in our room giggling and laughing together. "Shhh" I told him, "Dad'll be mad if he
finds out we're not asleep!" You see, our bedtime was at 8 o'clock,
and we were definitely
past that time.
I had a brilliant idea, perhaps
the first of my brilliant ideas to come. "Hey Rob, I have an idea!" He clapped his hands excitedly,
"Yay, Ate! It's a game!" You know those yellow earplugs that you squish and then put into your ears and it expands and seals out the sound? I said, "Let's play Puff the Magic Dragon! And you can be the dragon!" Rob squealed, "Yay, Ate!" I rolled up the
yellow earplugs. "Now Puff has got to have a dragon nose. You need these to make you a real Puff!" And I proceeded to push the yellow balls into my brother's nose. Rob was as happy as
could be, his mouth open wide, drool on the side of his mouth. I folded
my arms and examined the product.
"You look great, Rob!" He laughed. "But I think the balls are a little too far out. Let's push them in more." He nodded and giggled, "I'm
a dragon!" "Yes you are. Ooh, I think you're a bit uneven." And so I pushed on the right and had to push a
little on the left and then on the right and then finally it was perfect.
"Now you're really Puff!" Rob laughed, "I'm Puff! I'm Puff!
Thanks Ate!"
We laughed and played and I said, "Ok, now let's
take them out."
I grabbed the little of the yellow remaining out of his
nose and pulled. "Oops, I think I need get in your nose a bit." Rob nodded.
Unfortunately, I forced it up a bit further. And the more I prodded
the more I pushed it further up his nose. "Oops..." Rob looked at me, completely trusting his sister. "What's wrong Ate?"
I tread softly on the stairs, but even so they squeaked
and my dad called out, "Why
aren't you in bed?" I said timidly, "Uh
Robert has something
in his nose. I don't know how it
got there."
To make a long story short, we ended up in the emergency
room. And after a
doctor came with his long tweezers, Rob was back to normal again.
Memories like these are so easy to forget.
In the game of
life, we're constantly looking forward--to graduate, get that next job, buy that new car or house.
And we forget about those early memories, those people that were there
all along.
As much as the world has changed
and I've changed and he's changed, I feel lucky to have had such a wonderful
brother. My life would not be the same without him, his smile, and his love.
And I would never have that name that I cherish so brunch--the name Ate.
