Even though I didn’t spend much time with my mother as a young girl
Every step you take, you take toward success
I learned to progress and grow stronger in my way. My father was an electrician, and I lived with him and his sister, a reverend sister. However, my father traveled often, and I dreaded those times. He knew I didn’t like it when he left, so he usually traveled at night while I was asleep.
I remember waking up, looking around, and staring at the blank wall where he always hung the two shirts he packed for his trips. That was my first clue. If the shirts weren’t there, I knew he was gone. But sometimes, it was his camera bag—a bag he always carried when traveling—that gave it away. On those mornings when neither the bag nor the shirts were on the wall, my heart would sink.
Tears would quietly trail down my cheeks as I came to terms with the fact that he had left again. But there was no time to dwell on my feelings—I had responsibilities to take care of. I got up, wiped my tears, and started my day. In our household, we didn’t have a microwave, so I would reheat leftover rice to eat before heading to school. I swept the entire house before my father’s sister returned from morning mass.
If I knew I’d be late, I rushed downstairs to open the school gate for students—a task I hated because being reprimanded was one of the things I feared most. But I kept going, despite the challenges, because I had no other choice. These routines, though difficult, taught me discipline and perseverance.
This memory is just one part of my journey, but it speaks volumes about the resilience I had to build as a child. Adding this story to another post sheds light on the early lessons that shaped the person I am today.