Thirty two years ago, God sent me to an angel named Estrellieta. A woman who was married for 10 years but can’t bear a child. She had two still births and 2 miscarriages and an H-mole for the record on her obstetrical and gynecological history. I was an answer to a woman’s prayer. Oh… I can just imagine the emotions and the surprise that goes along with my bundle. One thing I’m sure of is I’m not the baby everyone wished for.
So my angel and my gene’s donor, my prototype named Leo , together they brought me up to be a woman that I am now. Yeah I failed them most of the time. I wonder now, did I made them laugh out loud when I was in my witty phase of my first three years of existence? Did they know that someone had a crush on me in the 2nd grade? Were they proud that I was a quiz bee representative in a Nutrition quiz ball and i made it through the championship round in the 3rd grade? Hadn’t I got a fever on the final day, I will be the winner. Had they noticed that I was the most obedient high school student a parent could ask for cause I focus on my studies and had a school-home route only due to pressure academically. Have they felt how frustrated I am when I didn’t make it through my pre med? Were they as confused as I am when I end up in a course and a profession I never dreamed of? I didn’t hear their cheers when I pass my licensure exam. But it’s affirming to hear their thanksgiving prayer.
It’s been three decades now of proving my worth. I am too old to be under the care of my angels. I shoud’ve be an angel to someone this time but i chose to pay back my angel and my gene’s donor for the care, discipline and love they gave to me (that’s how our culture taught me). I should’ve been out there and mind my own life.
I may not be the bundle of joy they ask for. I may not be an achiever. I may not be where I am now and what I am now. And I may not be so lucky in love and in career life. But I am who I am. I love who I am. I thank God, my angel and my prototype for conceiving me.
Every 5th day of October, is my transition day. If I were a butterfly, it’s the day wherein I’ve got my wings. Finally the ugly worm turns into a butterfly. And, I’m ready to fly and make this new year worthwhile. I will use this wings to make another wonderful and remarkable year of my timeline.