October 2025 "An Elder Sister’s Responsibility" by Anapaula Ochoa

     Valeria is someone well aware of her desires, leading me to believe what I already knew: she was going to leave, and everything was going to change. I watched as she went through the process of becoming a Poole, a term used to describe people interested in becoming a marine who were early in the process. Soon enough, our home was changing: her marine water bottle on the table, a marine lanyard hanging on the key rack, the red marine shirt she wore to PT every Tuesday and Thursday. Our home reflected the weight of her decision to enlist, showing truly how large a leap my sister was taking. I was frightened by this, as it became apparent that I couldn’t protect her on the path she was headed. I wouldn’t be able to guide her on something I myself have never faced before, and I had no power over what she would have to go through while she’s gone. This realization was among the heaviest. She is my little sister, and it is my duty to defend, support, and care for her, and I realized that I’d be unable to do so during a difficult time in her life. I now understand that it is important for her to face things on her own because it is one of the only ways she will flourish into who she is meant to become.

     Now that she is gone, the change I feared has ravaged our home. Her empty bed, her makeup bag still in the bathroom, her clothes still hung up in the closet my sisters and I all share. It’s confusing when traces of her are still everywhere I look, but she is nowhere I can reach her. I miss when she would ask me for money to go to Dutch Bros with her friends, something that was part of her routine. I miss her blasting her country music on her phone while we all got ready for school. I miss the way she would ask me to drive her to Target to go buy clothes while she plays her music loudly on the aux.  

     On August 25th, 2025, I underwent one of the largest changes I have ever encountered in my life. My younger sister, Valeria, enlisted in the Marine Corps and departed for boot camp that day. I remember the first time she alluded to this grand decision she was exploring early on in her senior year of high school. “Oh, I might do it, but I'm not sure yet,” she said, hardly convinced herself. Once she said this, I started mourning her departure prematurely. I was certain that her mind would not deviate from this path, and I felt that what she really wanted to say was that she had already decided.

     My siblings are all important to me, but my younger sisters give me such purpose. I am who they look up to, even if they don’t say it. I am who they look to for advice and support, or just when they want me to buy them something, which I always do. Her departure has taught me just how much love I have in my heart for my family, and I am so grateful to have so many reminders of her, although she’s gone for a while. Sometimes I’ll hear a country or rock song she loves, and I’ll be pleasantly reminded of her presence, even though it used to make me sad, and it sometimes still does. I love writing letters to her and receiving them from her as well, as she tells me how much she enjoys reading them and how she is doing in boot camp. I remember the way I cried the last time I saw my sister, on a Sunday morning at the recruiter's office. I tried valiantly not to cry and held out for longer than I should have, but eventually I succumbed to what I was feeling. We took pictures together, and it sank deeper into my heart that this was it. The tears flowed steadily from my eyes as I said my final goodbyes to her, watching as she and two other girls she knew were driven off to a new chapter in their lives. Still, the tears continued to flow from my eyes long after she was out of my sight, and they continued all the way back to my now quiet home. Although I am deeply saddened by her departure, I understand that my sister needs me to be strong for both of us. She needs my support more than ever, and I must put my feelings aside to uplift her. That is the responsibility of an elder sister.