Pollyana Cowgirl

Mal. That is the theme for today`s blog (psst.. I am trying to be succinct. Refer to Rule 1 ONE.).

As 3rd of January approaches, I have been plagued with the nagging fear that the hardest thing to do, is to hug and say goodbye to Mal. Mal, my sister, eight years younger and the dearest person in my heart. Funny how I was devastated when my mother casually informed me that she is going to have a baby. Funny how I burst into tears, sobbed in my room and thought how much I would detest this new addition. Funny how when I was all of eight years old, I thought that love is finite, limited in quantity and whose quality would depreciate if shared between increasing numbers. Mal, also known as Mei, B B and Beebs to me. (Full name: Malvina. She still thanks her lucky stars nightly ever since she found out that 'Lucillia' was the name I picked for her. My mother obviously has better taste in names than me.)

Growing up with Mal. Changing her diapers, singing her to sleep with my self-composed bedtime hit-songs and best of all, I had my own little doll to dress, cuddle and play with. Mal was a cute little button of a baby with a hairstyle that resembles a mushroom, a toothy grin that melts hearts and with a sensitive little soul, Mal was hard to not love.

The eight year age difference between us meant that I protected her and let her get away with loads of stuff. Payback time! Let me now announce that the 1cm scar on my thigh was a result of Mal BITING me when she was toothing. I suppose my thigh looked so yummy to her that she did not let go despite my WAILS (WAILS!!!!) and left the imprint of her 2 front teeth on my thigh forever. Let me also announce that the 2 cm burn-mark on my right hand was because I tried to fry an egg for her, the hot oil splashed and the rest is history. Okay, that scar is partly my fault... I really did not know that the oil was that hot and I fried it out of goodwill.

There are things I would do only with Mal. Dancing fantically to mambo hits in the privacy of either of our rooms... Pretending to be a diva at a concert and belting out ballads and waving to an imaginary audience... Going shopping (I usually shop alone) because Mal gives uncensored opinions and fashion advice... sharing my obsessive-compulsive habits and corny jokes, letting her into my private world of hopes, fears, doubts, dreams and deepest secrets. Funny how Mal has taken care of me. She probably does not know this, but Mal has kept me sane, hugged me when words had no meaning, laughed with me (and AT me) when life got too serious, prayed for me when things felt out of control and she saved me, literally, when I was in living Japan.

Mal just turned 18 and we commemorated it by having a wild night at Zouk. Mal thinks that she is now all grown up. Not too long ago, I promised her when she was just that little girl that I will bring her to Disneyland when I saved enough money. Our Disneyland dream came true in the summer of 2004 in Tokyo and I would never forget that magical day. Memories that feel strangely new.

Funny how things are now. Funny how I realised only recently that Mal taught me how to love unconditionally. Funny how Mal showed me how to not look at a person with my eyes but with my heart. Funny how Mal will always be so precious. Funny how I failed to see that 18 years ago, God gave me a Christmas present that was delivered 9 days early. And funny how that present is really my little guardian angel, Mal.

I love you Beebs. I will miss you most.