Laughter erupts from his pizza-filled mouth as we watch the Disney movie Zombies on the couch. Gavin stuffs his mouth with another slice of pizza before his favorite song comes on, jumping onto the couch while singing and dancing to the song “Someday.”
The sounds of laughter and the look on his face when he remembers all the words make me burst out laughing. He lets himself fall back on the couch, waking his now-cranky cat Oliver. Gavin takes yet another bite and looks at the screen, anticipating his favorite scene in a movie we have seen a thousand times.
When he is done eating, he picks up Oliver and watches the rest of the movie wrapped up in a blanket with him. These are the times that make taking care of my 10 years younger brother all worth it. It reminds me that not everything is bad, and that for these small moments nothing else matters but having fun with my little brother. He makes me feel normal.
Gavin is like other kids for the most part. He has dreams, expectations, sadness, anger, worries, curiosity and happiness constantly swirling around in his head. The things that make him different make him special.
Things have been hard for him from the beginning. He was born with a cleft lip and palate and has undergone various surgeries. As a result, he has speech and hearing issues. Gavin also has ADHD, so I do my best to keep up his confidence and make sure he’s comfortable.
He used to ask my mother and me why he was born different and why he couldn’t be like the other kids. Since I began taking care of him, I got him to embrace his differences. He doesn’t want to be anyone else anymore: he just wants to be Gavin.
I get to see his normal childhood in bits and pieces. I wonder how different it would be if we could safely go outside. How different would he be if he got to visit friends or be in a classroom?
The bond we have grew stronger as a result of everything we went through. Taking care of him made me stronger. I don’t know what I would do without him.
As the older sister, I was supposed to be a built-in babysitter and watch him grow up. It reminds me of growing up and being cared for by my grandmother.
When she got sick and we lost her last July, everything in my life changed. She took care of me for the majority of my life. I had never known a life without her.
I remember she would tell me, “Me recordarás cuando tengas a alguien a quien cuidar.”
(You’re going to remember me when you have someone to take care of.) I never got to tell her how right she was,or how many times a day I think of her and the lessons she taught me.
After her passing, the responsibility of taking care of my brother fell onto me. My family now relies on me to feed, nurture, teach and take care of my brother while my parents are working.
It is common in Latino communities for the oldest sibling to become like a third parent. I just thought it would be different; I didn’t know how big the responsibility would be. Just babysitting him wouldn’t seem so bad, but I understand why parents pull their hair out after being locked inside with a kid for a year.
In addition to his classes, Gavin has occupational, speech and deaf or hard-of-hearing therapy three times a week. He also has dental appointments every month to check his progress for braces.
I struggle to get him to go to everything all the time because it is a lot for a kid. As much as I hate it, we fight a lot. A big part of it is having two big personalities locked in a room together.
As a result, I am often torn between being a sister and acting as a parental figure. I have a responsibility to my mom and to Gavin to get him through his classes, meetings, homework and just the day sometimes.
Growing up during a pandemic will have traumatic effects on everyone, but I want my brother to come out stronger than I will. I will worry more. I feel like I will always have a sense of panic when things don’t seem right and feel like something bad is always around the corner.
I won’t let him come out with those same worries and fears. My job as his big sister and his unofficial third parent is to make sure he comes out OK. He will be stronger than anyone I have ever known.
Through all the pain he has been through, Gavin always comes out smiling. I let him play video games and make a TikTok so he can feel more connected to kids his age. I think under all the stress people face every day like loss, money problems, sickness and school, we forget that kids see it all.
I convinced my mom to get him a cat, which surprisingly doesn’t like anyone but him. He won’t know what it’s like to make friends at the park that you never see again or hug his best friends on the last day of second grade,but he will know what it is to have a companion and be loved very much at home.
Gavin copes by learning about the world around him, and that is one of the things I enjoy teaching him. He has learned about the pandemic and politics and even went up to my mom when she got home one night to yell “Black Lives Matter!” before abruptly walking away.
The hardship makes it worth it if I can keep teaching him how to be a good person. I will teach him to care a little more about other people, just like my grandma taught me.
Through all the craziness, I still want him to be a kid. I still want him to have campouts in the living room, stay up too late, pig out on junk food, go on adventures, skip school on his bad days and just have fun.
These are the days I love most because I don’t feel the crushing weight of familial responsibility to contribute to his development. These are the days I can just be his sister, and I can feel how much these moments truly matter.
