Sidenote: Typically, when I refer to my "cousins", I'm talking about a group of five that technically are not even my first cousins. All of those real first cousins are in the Philippines and I've never met them. These "cousins" are the ones I grew up with and while we really are family, I'm technically on the same family tree level with their mom (as second cousins, I believe). But her kids and I have always considered each other cousins since we're in the same age group (me being the oldest).
Anyways, I guess when the first of them (Johnny) was old enough to give me a name, that name was "Rara". We're only three years apart, he and I. Which back when we were kids, at least to me, seemed like a huge difference. My nickname for him was "Sas-See". I have no freaking clue how that came about. That name had a short life (thankfully for him), but the name "Rara" kept living on with each of the four siblings that followed. At least that name made sense, right? It's easier for a little kid to say "Rara" than to say "Ryan".
Well, I'm a month away from my 25th birthday, and I'm still Rara. All of them still call me that - although the older ones have shortened it to just "Ra." (A few of my friends who learned of this nickname have started calling me that too sometimes.) It's funny when I'm visiting their house and they have a friend over and the friend comes to think "Ra" is actually my real name. Sometimes they'll correct them... I don't mind. It's funny. And it's a nice part of my childhood, of a much simpler innocent time.
The youngest of them, Tia, will graduate high school in 7 years. She'll be 18, and I'll be 31 when she does. It's crazy to think about that. But I bet I'll still be called Ra... and I know I'll be thankful for that.
