My PCOS Battle

It’s been awhile since I posted here and most of the time I did is when I’m in my most vulnerable state. I am the kind of person that when I am in my most emotional status the more my mind set to extract its creative juices. Right now I am sad, sick and distorted. My stepfather died last November 1 and ironically it’s the same date my real father died too. My Pa left me when I am only 2months old due to cirrhosis of the liver. I grew up with my grandparents since I think I could remember around 3-5 years old. My mom is just around as well but because I am the first grandchild I was requested by my grandparents to stay with them. I grew up with stories my Ma told me about Pa like when he was sick and was brought to the city hospital he would request a phone to the ICU and call us up way back in our town to just even hear me cry over the phone was enough for him. Most of the town people would always say to me how friendly and kind my Pa is and how I really look like him. There were times when some of my Pa’s friend comes home and they see me for the first time would suddenly cry and call my Pa’s name saying how I really resembles him.

When my Ma remarries I only realized and understood it all when I was already in high school. I think she remarried when I was 7 years old, though I often get to spend time with her I was too young to understand what’s going on and why am I on that situation. Yet, I realized on my own that she has a new family and apart of the new is me. My step father is a simple man since I could recall he was just a silent type and doesn’t interfere with my Ma’s decision maybe because he doesn’t want me to understand it the wrong way. When my grandparents died it was the most throbbing experience I have ever encounter. My grandparents was my life then, they have brought me up to this world the best they can and gave me unconditional love. I don’t want to elaborate more about them because I am trying not to think because I couldn’t help to cry and feel the pain again. As much as possible I don’t want to talk about it not because I want to forget them totally but because I can’t help it but to cry whenever I could reminisce the times I was with them.

Anyways, when my grandparents died when I was 20 years old, I lived with my Ma and my stepfather whom I call Tito. There I felt how welcome I am in that home and how he considered me like her own. She would point out to others whenever they banter that I was his eldest child. In times when Ma is out of line when they argue I would defend him and he would sometimes tell me that Ma is arguing with him with nonsense and I would be there between them to explain My tito’s side. Now, he is gone and what I would really miss about him is the way he cook adobong manok, when we have small yet meaningful conversations and in the simplest things he does that makes me feel loved. He was so patient, understanding and humble especially when Ma got nothing to do but be a nagger. Yes, I do really believe that we usually realized the value of one person when they are already gone and how I wish that I could have been more open and vocal about how grateful I am for his love, patients and understanding to us especially Ma. It’s time to say goodbye Tito, thank you for the acceptance, love and care you have given me. I would really miss you. Please guide us.