Man of the house

STORY BY SHEREE HANNAH SERRANO

EXCEPT, I am no man. From an outsider's perspective, Lydia may look like a man, probably due to her hair being cut so short, you can barely tell it’s a pixie cut, or how loud she might be, whenever she’s having fun. But, if you told her that to her face, she would laugh until her lungs physically cannot function anymore due to the lack of air.

Or, if you told her how masculine she presented herself, she would chuckle, while striking a so-called "manly" pose, her eyes would always have that certain kind of sparkle in them, and that's just who Lydia is. Just a simple mother trying to make ends meet and have food on the table on a day-to-day basis.

Her husband was a classic case of a “deadbeat father”, and whether he knew it or not, he couldn’t care less about the well-being of his own family. He would always go out drinking until midnight, rarely at home.

He would be verbally abusive around the times that he was present, and the people around them started to question why they even married each other. Furthermore, why would Lydia put herself through this sort of torture? Just to prove to the people around her that she wasn't too hard to love? That she wasn't a failure? Or, maybe because the kids are too young to experience the trauma of a divorce.

Though, none of that ever mattered to Lydia. For as long as the man she married was still physically present in the lives of her children, she was willing to endure the struggle of raising 2 kids on her back, while juggling 3 different jobs. Living off that minimum wage paycheck that definitely wasn’t a product of her bare minimum.

Still, she never complained, she always brushed it off as if the world got nothing on her. It was as if she didn’t really seem to care about her problems because it felt so insignificant to her. After all, she was busy picking up the pieces her husband left.

“He’ll be back, no worries!”

She reassured her kids, but it also seemed like she was trying to convince herself that her husband wasn't completely useless. After all that's happened, she could still say that she loved him... unconditionally...

There were nights where Lydia could barely pick herself up from the couch after a long day at work. I mean, can you really blame her? She barely eats during the day just so her kids have something to eat when she gets home, no matter how drained she is throughout the day. Her only motivation is to keep the family together, despite being a parental figure.

Soon her eldest started to notice that there was something wrong with Lydia. Her bright and bubbly personality sort of simmered out and now just by looking at her, you could tell that she was tired.

“He won’t come back... Will he?”

Appalled, a sudden wave of realization hit Lydia. However, she didn’t want to show that to her son, even if it was already evident by that look in her eyes. Those lifeless, lonely eyes. “He’ll be back... No worries.” She smiled weakly at her son, and though her son wanted to confront her and try to help her, he didn’t push for it any further.

Bad decision.

Day by day, her exhaustion was starting to catch up to her, her muscles were always sore due to overworking herself. Prayers and miracles surely wouldn’t help her now. What she needed was a gallon of coffee and sanity pills.

She tried so hard to not make it obvious, but because being expressive was like second nature to her. It was evident in her body language that she wasn’t happy anymore. Every step she took, every breath, every minor movement. No matter what she did, it was like she was having the life sucked out of her forcefully.

She couldn’t take it any-