I learned the value of missing someone at a very young age. It wasn't that long before my 6th birthday that our father had left. I vaguely remembered his face and his voice but I did remember that there was a male figure there at some point. How in the heck would I remember the word "papi"? That's what I called him. Yet, I was seven by this time and I was about to be abandoned by the one person I had left to look up to. As a kid, you don't truly understand a sacrifice like this, but as an adult and in retrospect, I'm grateful. But this is about me back then and THEN, I felt that gnawing burn as if your chest is about to cave in and crush your lungs while they burst into flames. The feeling when you could only gasp for air as if you were drowning and what you are reaching for is your last gulps of air. I just described to you what heartbreak felt in the years to come. But back to the story.

Meeting someone whom you're told will replace your mom is like being forced to drink castor oil. It just left a foul taste in my mouth. But what can a 7-year-old do but to swallow it and accept that for how ever long, these three ladies will replace my best friend. "Will I ever see my mom again?" is one of the things that I remember clearly asking myself. That was the question I repeated in my head for weeks after we were dropped off.

To be continued...