The Other KOUL Sister

There’s four of us “Koulabdara kids” in my family, two boys and two girls. Growing up, I was always dubbed as “the smart one”, Bay, my older brother, “the artistic one”, Mickey, my younger brother, “the baby” and then there was my older sister, Kay, “the beautiful one”.

I used to think she was more of “the clumsy one” or “the problem child” since she was involved in a plethora of accidents which I will share on these pages.

Most people would not guess that Kay and I are sisters. We are as different as winter and summer.

Yet, many of my best qualities came from being molded and influenced by her. From Kay, I learned how to build strength, resiliency and kindness. The perks of being her little sister!

One of the fondest memories from my youth happened when I was 5 years old. My father came home with a beautiful red and black bicycle. We were in awe and all wanted to be the first to ride it. In the end, Bay became the first to test the bike, lost interest and went fishing.

On the other hand, Kay and I rode around for hours in the forest behind our home. When we came to the rolling hill, I hung onto my sister giggling and encouraging her to go faster. Then it all ended so fast --I saw blood gushing out of my sister’s leg and ran home to tell my mother. Lucky for Kay, our father was a doctor.

On another instance, I was running around our yard in Laos crying and screaming for my sister to get a branch from a tree so I can use it as a parasol. Kay bravely climbed to get the branch, fell, and broke her arm.

I remember my mother scolding, telling my sister that she did not have to give me everything that I asked for. My sister’s response was, “I know, but it makes her so happy. She’s my only sister.”

One of the chores that my sister had to do while we were children was to collect water from the local village well. I ran along until I became tired and demanded a piggy back ride. When we arrived at the well, my sister started to lower the bucket down and pulled the heavy water up. This was the scariest day of my life.

My sister disappeared into the well and the other girls started to scream for help. My father, along with a few men from our village came to the rescue. After what seemed like a decade, my father emerged from the well with my sister in his arms, unscathed but crying profusely.

You would think that this incident would scar my sister for life but years later, she pushed through her fears and taught my brothers and I how to swim. If memory serves me right, she pulled me out of the water once or twice.

When our family immigrated to the US, by default, my sister sacrificed her childhood in order to help my parents. I didn’t realize or appreciate this until years later.

My parents often had to work two or three jobs in order to make ends meet and raise us kids. My sister’s role morphed into becoming our caretaker. (Perhaps this is why she became less accident prone? Who knows!)

Kay did all the chores so we can play and study. In addition to having to experience most everything before the rest of us younger siblings, Kay had to learn how to adapt to a whole new culture that was drastically different from our Laotian roots.

In a way, she became a second mother to us. I remember how difficult it was for Mickey when we first started going to school in America. He used to cry for our mother and the school had to call my sister to comfort him in class. She did this while as a child herself.

Through my many break-ups, long nights applying for college, learning how to drive, my sister was always by my side --unconditionally and without judgment. For all you younger siblings out there, we have it made!

Last year, I took a big leap in my career and I probably wouldn’t have done it had it not been for Kay’s encouragement and counsel. Although it was and is still my dream role, I wasn’t sure if I could live up to the expectation and lead. On top of all that pressure, I would have to move to a whole new state. I took the leap and have her to thank for it.

For the past 10 years, I have served as a non-profit professional and I receive varying reactions from people and the most common one is:

“You’re such a good, kind person.” “You’re a superhero.”

Although I’m flattered when I hear these kind words, It always makes me think of my sister, especially during these uncertain times. She is the real hero who does not even need a cape to be identified!

Kay is a healthcare professional who loves her role as a phlebotomist.

She originally wanted to be a nurse and that plan changed one rainy day when I caught my sister sobbing in our bedroom. Kay was an intern for the elderly nursing program where she was responsible for meal preparation, reading books, bathing and all things related to their day to day activities.

Many of her patients became very attached to her and she to them. Kay was emotional that day because a patient passed away and left her a ring. My sister never saw her role as just that, a job. She loves humanity and would go above and beyond for her patients and everyone in her life.

One act that I will never forget happened about 10 years ago when she was asked to give a part of herself, literally, to a friend. My sister did not even hesitate to undergo surgery and share her kidney. It was such a selfless act for me to witness that it continues to move me to this day.

I can’t express how much my sister’s guiding role in my life has shaped and paved the way for me to be where I am in my life or my optimistic and idealistic view on the world. I may be the one in our family who is clearing unexploded ordnance and assisting survivors of bomb accidents, but I don’t think I would be doing this today if my sister didn’t inspire me.

Growing up with my sister has shaped me and I will forever be guided by her halo.