Today is my sister’s birthday. She lives in the Philippines and I thought I’d greet her yesterday instead since she’s 15 hours ahead. I forgot. So when I texted her this morning, it was almost midnight her time. Oh well. It dooesn’t really matter. We don’t call each other up anymore anyway. We barely talk really. We’re like distant relatives that see each other every few years or so at parties.

It’s not like we were ever close. We just started drifting apart more as the years have gone by. We haven’t lived in the same country for 20 years now. There’s really nothing much to talk about. We have such different interests and values. Our perspective of our own family dynamics differ as well.

Now that I think about it, the only times we talked a lot and often was when my mom had a stroke in the fall of 2019, and then when my dad got Covid in August last year, 2021. Other than that, just sparsely.

I talk to my brother way more often. It’s usually just text messages with pics here and there but we on video calls sometimes. He’s nine years younger than me but I feel closer to him than any other person in my family. He doesn’t seem to have much of a stick up his butt. He’s easy to talk to. And funny! We’re both stupid together when we talk about some things. Other times, we get a bit serious. I’ve turned to him when I’ve been upset about some stuff in my life, and he’s done the same with me, too. It feels safe when I talk to him. Although we’re also quite different, I think we’re on the same level of funny and decency.

He also lives in the Philippines. I don’t know when I’ll ever go back there again. The last time I visited was in February 2019 when I surprised my dad for his 75th birthday. I brought three of my kids with me and we had a pretty awesome time. I’m sure they’ll want to go again. But I’m just not so sure I’m up for it anytime soon.