I always wondered why my nanay—mother, always had this sorrowful face whenever she looked at me, she immediately changes her expression to one more appropriate for a mother seeing her child.
I was named after my tito—my uncle—my biological uncle. I heard he died before I was born, I always have heard about him—compared to him, how I looked like him.
We have a painting hanging on the hallway the man looked just like me. I always wondered what kind of person he was, people always told me about his life but I never really could understand what made him so important.
Nanay always tried her best to be strong in front of us but sometimes see her standing in front of the painting of my tito. I can never really pinpoint the feelings she had while staring at the painting—anger, sadness, and longing it usually shuffles between those 3 emotions. I sometimes think the emotion she usually feels whenever she look at me is longing.
My other tito—well he’s not really related to us, I heard he lived with nanay and tito when they were younger. He and my dead tito had a special relationship—nanay said. He may hide his feelings with a smile but when you look right in his eyes there is this deep sorrow that encompasses his entire being.
He usually visits once in a while but he leaves almost immediately. He once lived with us for a long time but I was still a baby when that happened.
I have a brother—a younger brother, he seems more older than me it doesn’t help that every year he seems to have grown taller and bigger and here I am stuck in a three year old body—unable develop as I see children my age grow and mature pass me—I feel this sense of grievance.
Nanay told me not to worry—I was a late bloomer—she said, I can immediately sense past her lie and feel her uneasiness whenever this question comes up—I let it be.
I heard from nanay—my tito is coming back tomorrow it seems that he will stay long—she mutters as she looks at the news—it reads “Change To New Government ” it says of some country I barely hear about.
