The inquisitiveness and curiosity in me kept on asking Nanay who was the baby. She said he's our brother. I may not understand then that women should get pregnant first before they can have a baby, but I clearly sensed that Nanay is not telling the truth.
He's not my brother.
At five, I was insisting that he be named Arlon. During his baptism, the priest asked for his name. And I was throwing tantrums as I shout, "Arlon!" I don't know why I did that. It might be an instinct that I carry on the tradition of our names, which started with the first two letters of my father's - Arthur. But he was already given a name by his real family before we get to do that for him. Then, I heard my Nanay said, "Joel."
Later, we were told that he's my first cousin - the son of my father's brother. He bore the same family name as we do. But he knew - like we all knew - that we are not siblings.
Today, he turned 22. And I can only be thankful for him for letting us be his family. I would never know how painful it was when we introduced him to his real parents and siblings. But not once did he rebel or get angry at us. He took on the responsibility of running errands for us as Tatay's right-hand and quietly faced the challenges of growing up as a lone teenage boy in the house.
I am personally grateful because he has given me a chance to experience what is it like to have a brother. He said that I am his favorite sister. But whatever kindness and love I probably have showed him would never be enough for the role he willingly accepted when he was only 10 days old.
Just now, I discovered that Arlon is the male version of Arla. And when I wanted to name him such, I was actually declaring and accepting that he is an extension of my being.
Happy birthday, Joel. And though you may not bore the name as I wanted, I now understand why you were named such: "The Lord is God." You are a wonderful realization of that.
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| Joel giving his Father's Day gift to Tatay |
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